Behind the Closed Eyes
by jashinkyome
Summary: Deidara is in the last year of the sixth form college (high school). Born in a dysfunctional family and bullied by others, he tries, not very effectively, to fight his own daemons. Will anything change when a new student named Hidan joins the class? HiDei, Modern AU, Dark, rated M for mentions of abuse/violence/use of addictive substances & language.
1. Nebulous existence

The idea for this story has been haunting me for quite a long time. This chapter is a prologue; it's an insight in Deidara's mind before the proper action starts revealing, and is purposely a little bit vague. I should indicate that the whole story will be written from his point of view, and it is, indeed, going to be quite a dark story. Also - this is my debut in terms of Naruto fanfiction - I hope you enjoy.

* * *

Trying to catch memories, remember not to get lost. Once you lose yourself, it's never easy to go back.

Wandering between images and voices, remember to breathe. You never know whether the next second will give you yet another opportunity to let the oxygen penetrate your lungs.

Closing your eyes, remember not to glue them with tears. Are you certain that you will manage to open them again?

 _I should have known better._

Experiencing kenopsia* is not necessarily the kind of experience I wished to encounter. The forlorn atmosphere of a place that used to be full of people seems more hunting than many of my countless nightmares. Yet, here I am; lost in time, lost in space, lost in areas of my mind that I've always feared.

Am I awake?

Am I asleep?

Am I even _alive_?

As always, Deidara, as always. Never certain of anything, even the most trivial matters.

Never really _bothered_ , or never _strong enough_ to discover?

Sinking in a plastic smile, I fall.

In the cold light of morning, I rise,

 _I scream._

I opened my eyes, greedily catching my breath. My lips were dry, my hands were shaking, my frail body covered with cold sweat.

 _Here we go again_.

The shy light of the moon was softly creeping into my room, illuminating some of the small sculptures that I kept on my desk.

I closed my eyes again and hid my face in my hands, breathing heavily.

 _Cold._

I couldn't remember when the last time I slept through the whole night was. Every time the sun was going down I was already thinking about how many times I would wake up during the night; considering that I would be lucky enough to fall asleep at all.

I rubbed my eyes and looked around. Everything looked the same; not that I was expecting something extraordinary; it was just one of the bizarre feelings you acknowledge when you from a dark land of hallucination.

I picked up my phone from the floor: 4:07.

 _It should start getting brighter soon_ , I thought.

I had to be up by 7 to manage to show up for my 8:45 start. I collapsed on the bed and turned on the right side, letting the dizzy unconsciousness sneak into my mind again. If I didn't have to leave my house, I would have taken my sleeping meds but I knew I wouldn't wake up on time if I have decided to do so. Well, it wouldn't an issue if I had some _actual_ sleeping medicines; the pills, branded as Ketilept**, I kept cautiously hidden behind my bed were medicines used as a part of schizophrenia treatment but, in fact, only just one pill could make you hopelessly sleepy and numb in less than an hour. Obviously, my doctor wouldn't find them a marvellous cure for insomnia; I bought them online. I must have admitted that it was almost amusing how easily you can get all these things by just typing it in the search engine.

After a half an hour of fruitless fidgeting and changing sleeping positions, I gave up – I reached for the pills and broke off a quarter of one full tablet; 50mg was just enough to keep me asleep for a few hours.

Bitter medicine mixes with cold water.

I wrap myself in the duvet and close my eyes again.

 _I scream_.

Here we go again.

*eerie, forlorn atmosphere of a place that is usually bustling with people but is now abandoned and quiet.

**Ketilept is a brand name of quetiapine, which is an atypical antipsychotic used for the treatment of schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, and depression.


	2. Fresh air

I couldn't recall a word from any of the lessons on that day. It wasn't even midday and I already felt drained. Luckily, nobody seemed to be eager to approach me. Nothing was happening; what a blessing. I was lazily doodling some people in my notebook, wondering if I had enough money to buy some canvases after school. I desperately needed to buy some had the tendency to bore me after a while; I needed the unpredictable liquid unpredictability of paints.

And yet, there we were; in the middle of sociology class, not really close to the end of the day, when when I heard the door opening. I looked up and saw the school secretary and quite a tall guy standing next to her.

"Good mornig everyone. I have an information for you. I want to introduce you to our new student; he will be joining your class. Hidan," the secretary turned to the guy, "come in."

I squinted, pondering if there were any chances for a normal person to join this piteous bunch of kids. Although I expected a slightly tanned guy with dark blond hair, the one who showed up was, to my surprise, unusually pale and had distinctively white hair. I had to admit that I had never seen someone so sickly pale.

Mrs Sandmark, our teacher, greeted the new student and made him turn to us.

"Hidan, brilliant. Tell us a few words about yourself, will you?" the teacher asked, clearly trying to sound benevolently.

"Right… Okay, my name is Hidan Yuga, I'm 18, just moved into the city. I'm British, although I lived in a few different countries before I came here," the new student indicated. He seemed highly disinterested in the whole situation. "Also, if you haven't noticed, I'm an albino, which means that I lack pigment in my skin and my body parts are quite pricey in some countries across the world," he smirked.

I frowned – a few different countries? That seemed quite cool. I wondered what the reason behind that was, and why he decided to come back. Not that I hoped I would find out; although he looked quite interesting, I didn't believe he would like to talk to me.

"Well, great. There's a free seat next to Deidara, third row," the teacher announced, waving her hand in my direction. I quickly looked down and tried to look extremely busy.

Hidan looked in my direction and approached the desk without a word, moved back the chair and sat down quietly.

"Hey girl, how are you?", he turned to me.

 _Seriously?_

The whole class burst into laughter. I closed my eyes, wishing I could just disappear. Funnily enough, this one wish was a regular part of my daily routine.

"Hey, wha…"

"See, Deidara? Preach, Hidan. Two minutes in the class and already knows you through and through" exclaimed mockingly Brandon.

"Hidan, Deidara is actually a man," the teacher specified. I wasn't sure if she was more embarrassed or amused but I was too afraid to look up.

"Oh…" I heard. "Hey," he poked me gently. "Sorry. I didn't mean to offend you." I looked up. He sent me an apologising look and reached out his pale hand. "So you're Deidara, huh?"

"That's fine, don't worry. Yeah, you got this one right," I sent him a delicate smirk.

The guy smiled slightly and reached for his bag. From the corner of my eye, I watched how he pulled out a thin notebook and pen. I could only wonder if the tiny smile on his face a prediction of a coming disaster or humiliation.

"Everyone, quiet, please," the teacher reminded us about her presence.

The rest of the lesson passed in no time. I left as soon as I heard the bell, trying not to play with my luck and find a place where I could spend my break undisturbed by other people. Living in this school quickly made me realise that this would the best option I could wish for. Well, no – I wasn't the most popular kid in the school. I wasn't a liked one. I wasn't an average one. Sadly, I wasn't even one of those kids who got to be ignored by everyone. I was a mere outsider, and no – I didn't know how to protect myself from others.

Have I ever tried to protect myself?

At this point, I cannot be certain. The abuse cycle became a permanent part of my existence when I was just a small boy. One kid beat me up, the others picked up that really quickly. When I was going home, I could only face my father who, for some reason, appeared to be more ashamed of me than I ever could. Unfortunately, in this case, shame resulted in violence. Bruises became bruises under other bruises. Black eyes and wounds became a cover for another layers of dead-silent violence. Was it his androgynous appearance that was attracting all that abuse? Was it my character? Or maybe my interests I asked myself those questions a countless number of times and, every single time, I knew the answer was yes. And yet, I knew I couldn't change.

So… was it my choice?

To some extent, yes. It was, indeed, my decision to stay true to myself. Although I didn't believe in any gods or goddesses, I had faith in that the creation of me was something that should never be altered. Despite all that pain, I still felt a vague aura of pride when I looked at my creations; my art. As much as I despised my bruised body, all my weaknesses, art was the only thing that made my life meaningful. As long as my art was a part of my body and my soul, I knew I had a right to exist. If other people weren't able to understand it. I had to keep going. There was no other way. Besides… I'm not sure when, but, at some point, I stopped believing that anything or anyone could change the way I lived.

 _Here we go again_.

I made my way outside. Although it was a lunchbreak, I wasn't going to actually eat something. I had some money which should be enough for a piece to grab but spending money on food didn't seem too necessary. Since my parents were hardly ever giving me any funds, I tried to save up as much as I could; all in all, clay, paints and my 'sleeping' pills were nothing close to cheap, and I believed I needed them in my life even more than seemingly crucial nutrition. Besides, refusing to eat lunches actually increased my chances for spending the lunchbreak alone. The last thing I wanted was to stumble upon people from my class. I didn't even want to think about it; and yet, I could hardly ever stop.

Some people say that one doesn't appreciate what they have till they lose it. If I could ever agree to that, ironically, the beating would have been the only thing I had in mind. I was sexually abused for the first time at the age of 16, and, although I would never dare to say any of those out loud, I knew that being beaten up was nowhere as cruel as sexual abuse to me.

"Ah, there he is…" I heard behind my back. The voice made me shiver: Brandon. "Hey, did you miss me?" He grabbed my arm and turned me around so I could face him.

I didn't even look up. I hated his slightly tanned, over-confident face. Green eyes contemptuously killing anything in me that could resemble courage or dignity and that stupid nose piercing he got to perhaps just show off. Dark blond hair and the nonchalant smirk. Quite a pitiful picture of an abuser and yet, painfully real.

"See, Hidan, his verrry shy," Kyle, one of Brandon's friends, joked. I hated him just as much as Brandon, although I knew he was more of a lapdog which was just as exasperating and frightening than the pure malice of Brandon on its own.

So Hidan was with them. I could expect that. Of course, just another person who will find amusement and pleasure in making my life hell. Too bad he seemed to be more human when he firstly spoke to me.

"Leave me alone," I uttered through gritted teeth.

"You fucking wish…"

The next thing I felt was a burning sensation of pain right above my abdomen.

 _Here we go again._

"What the fuck are you doing?" Hidan exclaimed rushing towards Brandon and pushing him away from me.

"What's your problem?" For once, Brandon seemed puzzled.

"What's _your_ problem?! What did he do?" insisted the albino.

"Oh, I…" Brandon's facial expression changed from sheer confusion to arrogant confidence. "You know, it's nothing, just banter. He pissed me off recently, you know. He and his talking about some nonsense art, you'll get it once you know him. Everything's good. Right, Deidara?" he glared at me and something in his eyes made me speechless. _Once again_.

I couldn't believe Brandon actually said that. Did he actually try to convince Hidan that _nothing_ ever happened…?

"See, everything's fine. Calm down, man. No hard feelings," said Kyle clapping Hidan on the shoulder. Hidan seemed quite annoyed, but he only rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, whatever. See, the last time I punched someone like that, it was only the beginning," Hidan replied playfully, making both Kyle and Brandon grin.

"I'll see you around, Deidara," Brandon spat, giving me a smile that nearly made me cringe.

I passed him and walked in the opposite direction. That was clever, wasn't it? For some reason, Hidan didn't enjoy looking at me getting beaten up – at least for now. But he must have seemed quite interesting or valuable to Brandon if they tried to play the innocent card and imply that he and his friends have never done anything to me. That they haven't beaten me up to the point when I was choking blood, that they haven't put a knife to my throat. That they haven't raped me.

 _As if nothing ever happened_. I wish it was so easy for _me_ to actually believe it; erase my memories and start all over again.

I felt some sort of numb pain in my abdomen. I wasn't certain if Brandon did not accidentally punch me in a part of my body that had already been wounded by him of my father. I lost count between screams, paths of humiliation and mental escapes.

I sat down on a bench and pulled out my iPod – music one of the few things I truly both emotionally required and could experience in my life. Obviously, I couldn't compare music to my art, and yet, I couldn't think of any way that would be so close in its beauty and uniqueness to sculpting. I curled up on the bench and closed my eyes, letting the music devour my thoughts and penetrate my body.

Although it was the middle of October, the air was still pleasingly warm. Yet, I could still smell the soft loamy earth air rendered damp by the morning autumn rains. The tiny omens of upcoming waves of coldness, short days and people desperately seeking comfort among all those blind-cold clones who were still calling themselves human beings.

When the lunchbreak was nearly over, I grabbed my bag and went back to school.

The next subject was Media Studies, which I found interesting. Talking about the current trends and propaganda was more philosophical that one could presume, and as much as I wasn't really passionate about any other subjects than art, philosophy together with psychology were two different kingdoms of perspectives that I have always wished to unravel even just a little bit more. But… isn't it always like this? People who have the most mental issues are usually the ones who seek to learn about psychology. One may find this ironic or pathetic; I think it's rather sad – to me, knowing something about psychology is a poor replacement to my hopelessness towards my own daemons.

I mixed with other people and lazily entered the classroom. Avoiding any possible eye contact, I sat down the desk and made just enough space so I could be sure I wouldn't nudge Hidan. I was not used to sitting with someone beside me and I was almost certain it would out of my comfort zone, so I just decided to avoid any confrontations.

Hidan together with Brandon and Kyle showed up just a little bit late. I looked up at the albino lazily staring at the white wall in front of us.

Avoid any confrontations.

 _Any_.

* * *

Okay, we are getting there. Things are going to hot up in the next chapter.

As you can see, Hidan's vocabulary does not consists of curses only but, again, he hasn't had a chance to talk too much, has he? Also, please do forgive me torturing the poor Deidara, that's all I can say~

Thank you for reading, any comments are appreciated.


	3. Unwanted occhiolism

I was just leaving the school building when I heard somebody calling me.

"Hey, Deidara!" Hidan, I thought.

I turned around and saw the albino waving at me.

"Hey," I answered simply, staring at him a bit awkwardly.

"You know, I was actually looking for you. You know we have the group art presentation coming up, right?"

 _How could I possibly forget?_ Art was probably the only subject I genuinely cared about. As much as I did not mind being at the bottom of the pile when it came to other classes, I felt a peculiar obligation to pioneer in arts

"Yeah, sure. Next week, I think?"

"Right. Well, I'm not sure if I'm going to be free every day until the next Friday… "

"No problem, I can do it myself if you want," I stated bluntly. I wasn't surprised or disappointed. I would not expect anyone to want to cooperate with me. In fact, I was slightly relieved; I still didn't know what to expect from Hidan.

Hidan gave me a confused look.

"But that's a _group project_. We're both need to get a mark for it."

"That's not a problem, I'll tell them that we were working together," I assured him. Somebody would laugh at me for being such a loser but I couldn't help it; all I could want was to be free from people who could hurt me. If that meant giving my work away for free, I could agree to that.

For some reason, Hidan looked at me stunned. I could only pray to some gods for sparing me the embarrassment of blushing.

"What the hell are you even talking about? I'm not letting you do all of this by yourself, are you crazy? I just wanted to say that we should make some plans so we can deal with this shit on time!"

"Oh…"

" _Oh_?" Hidan laughed, but his laughter didn't seem ironic. "Well, I'm not that fucking horrible at arts, if that's what you're worried about"- Hidan rolled his eyes.

"No, it's not… I…'' I was stunned and genuinely had no idea what to say. Ne could call me a miserable fool but I did not see such answer coming. "I usually work alone," I finally replied and shrugged my arms.

"Even in group projects?" Hidan asked ironically and I couldn't stop a smile showing up on my face. In fact, I was nearly laughing. Lips and jaw seem wooden when a man is more of a human puppet than a living creature.

"Anyway… so, are you up to anything today? We can discuss it now so we can get on with the whole thing. To be fair, I can't be really bothered but I'm just sick of having all the teachers and principals bitching about my behaviour. It's enough that I just got away with an ASBO.**"

I smiled slightly. "No, not really," I answered simply.

"Okay, yours or my place? I swear it's going to be fucking raining in no more than 5 seconds or so."

I instantly froze; one world gave more reasons for a panic attack that it could ever be socially acceptable. Hidan must have seen my agitation because he only added: "Hey, that's calm. If you don't want…"

"No, that's fine. Sorry. Sorry," I raised my hands trying to act as if nothing ever happened. "That's just me, I'm being just stupid sometimes… That's fine. I'm not sure about going to my house, though," I added, biting my lips. It was certainly _not_ a good idea. It was enough that I was scared to go home myself.

"That's cool – as I said, we can go to my place," Hidan shrugged his arms.

"Yeah, sounds good", I responded, trying to take control over my growing anxiety.

Hidan, in fact, did not seem dangerous. Not in the way _they_ did.

 _You don't know him._

But he didn't hurt me.

 _He hasn't done it yet. What do you expect?_

"Deidara, DEIDARA!" - Hidan's voice burst in on my thoughts. "I asked you twice, not gonna repeat it again." The albino rolled his eyes.

"God, sorry. I'm just tired. What did you ask?" I mumbled, giving him an apologising look.

 _Smile._

Surprisingly, we spent the whole journey to Hidan's home on talking. I was not used to this – _talking_. It has been a long while since the last time I spoke to somebody in a friendly manner. Although it was Hidan who did most of the talking, I took it for granted. I was more eager to listen to what he wanted to say than to open up about myself. I knew there were too many things that simply could not be discussed at any point, with anyone, and remaining silent seemed a reasonably easier tactic to avoid a quiet shame of silence.

The albino did appear to be a compelling human being. His confidence seemed to give him the possibility to talk about everything, from his numerous travels to grumbling on how much he hated this school. As much as I was more than supportive of his early hatred for the school, I could be only impressed or jealous of all those trips.

Hidan went backpacking for 3 months last year – he went to Norway, Sweden, and quite a few other European countries. He went there with his best friend, Connor. I listened to Hidan passionately dwelling on how they spent over a few thousand pounds going from one country to another, drinking, partying and, in other words, having the time of their life. Funnily enough, his father could not really control him – he was supposed to be away for just four weeks and yet, there he was – turning up at home 2 months later. Remarkably, old mister Yuga allowed this even though Hidan got suspended from school. According to Hidan, his father was already organising his move to England and was aware of that Hidan would have to miss the first months of school in England regardless of his summer plans. Besides, more importantly, trying to persuade Hidan seemed an unnecessary bother that he did not wish to encounter. This appeared quite extraordinary to me; but yet, I was probably the last person who would know what normality might be. If the bond between me and my father could be qualified as family relations, it was nothing more than a cemetery of broken bones, haunting thoughts and never-healing wounds.

"Okay, it's here," said Hidan pointing his finger on a high block of flats. I looked around and realised it is actually the first time since we started walking when I paid attention to the surroundings. The area seemed quite pleasant – although we were in quite a modern part of the city, I could see some trees, reminiscent of a grass and quite a few coffee shops that were still filled with people.

"Nice area," I muttered shyly.

"Well, it's alright, I suppose," Hidan shrugged his arms and reached down to find the keys in his bag.

I followed him as he opened the door.

"Which floor?" I asked, wondering how many floors the building had. It seemed even bigger once we came inside.

"Second, don't worry. I would die if I had to go up to the seventh floor or spend my life on waiting for the fucking lift", the albino chuckled.

I was quite grateful for that, too. I absolutely _hated_ lifts. They always reminded me of cages.

"Make yourself at home, yeah," Hidan said just a little bit ironically once we got there. I smiled tentatively, feeling even more uneasy than before.

As we walked through the living room to his room, the first word I would use to describe the apartment was simply: perfectionistic. It was very modern and seemed nearly untouched and pretentious. The walls were black and grey, with black or white furniture. I couldn't see many ornaments, flowers or any particularly personal belongings. _Immaculate_ , I thought.

"This is my room", he added, opening another door.

This room was slightly different from the rest of the house. The walls were in the same white-grey shade but the room certainly was not sterile. Hidan had a couple of shirts left on the floor and some leather boots kicked under the desk. He had huge speakers, a few cactuses in glass plant pots and a blackboard on the wall, too. His furniture was all black and yet, seemed really comfortable. I noticed a few photographs on the wall and smirked, seeing younger Hidan pretending to lick a red-haired girl's cheek.

"You've got a really nice flat, you know," I stated.

"Well, thanks. It's alright for now, I suppose. I'm not sure why my father went for such a big flat, I swear I'm never gonna use the kitchen for anything else than making coffee and microwaving stuff that I absolutely have to."

"You live here alone?", I asked, genuinely intrigued.

"Yeah, my father stayed in Germany."

"Why?", I inquired, quite intrigued by his statement.

"He's a PR manager and the company he's working at set up their headquarters in Germany. That's why we moved there in the first place," he said. "But then, I couldn't really get used to that country. I was just sick of changing my surroundings, and I had shit loads of issues at school, partially because of my German, which is still not great. That shit is difficult, you know***? Anyways... He decided that I could go back to England and start all over again. He said that his son has to be tough, so he thinks that I should be able to man up and live here alone. And that's fucking great, you know? I get that he doesn't give a fuck about me but as long as I end up in my own flat without anyone bitching around, I'm fine."

I raised my eyebrows. His confession truly amazed me; how much would I give for living far away from my father?

"That's awesome," I admitted. "But what your mother?"

"Oh, she's dead."

I automatically regretted that I asked that question.

"I am so sorry, I shouldn't have asked…" I bit my lips.

"No problem, we haven't been close, really." Hidan's voice seemed automatic which made me decide not to go into details.

"My mother's dead, too," I said. I was not planning to say that; it just slipped out. "So, project… What do you want to do for it?" I changed the topic.

"I hoped that you would tell me, you seemed quite good at all these artsy stuff. I saw you drawing during the classes," Hidan smiled. It seemed that he understood the hint and decided not to talk about our parents.

"Thanks," I responded a bit bluntly. "Drawing is not my favourite kind of art, though. I'm more into sculpting," I added a bit more passionately.

"Sculpting?" Hidan raised his eyebrows. "You are probably the first person I know who does that. That's wicked," he beamed. "I'm okay with painting, I guess… But it's not like I'm an artist or something," he added quickly.

"Fair enough. So, as for the project, we just need to design a new model of _something_. What do you want to do?"

"No idea. What kind of this does it have to be?"

"The teacher said the best would be some sort of clothing, shoes…" I shrugged my arms.

"Shoes then? We can probably download a sketch model online and just come up with some fancy colouring, branding and stuff," said Hidan and reached for his laptop.

"Fine with me," I nodded.

It felt just weird. From the ocean of words, I could not think of any other term to describe what I felt. I could not quite believe that. The _normality_. As if nothing ever happened. As if I was normal, just like any other person in the world. Hidan treated me as an ordinary human being and, for once in a long time, I did not feel as if I was a second-class creature waiting to be prosecuted for its obscenity. He did not perceive me as a pathetic loser or a bitch to rape. For a split second, I could believe that this is how it should have always been; for a split second, I felt that I deserved normality.

"You know, you're pretty quiet as for an artist," joked Hidan. "I always thought there were sassy motherfuckers."

"Sorry, I'm just…"

"Don't _apologise_ for who you are. I didn't mean to say that's wrong, I just said what I saw," the albino assured me. "Anyway… so we're sorted for the project for now, will discuss when to meet up later, yeah? I'll be off to see my friends in a bit."

"Sure," I have him a genuine smile.

"See you around," said Hidan walking me to the door.

 _See you_.

It was already dark outside. I completely lost track of time. I was not afraid of walking in the dark – I actually enjoyed it. I loved the smell of evening air. It might seem ridiculous but I indulged in the peculiar mixture of slightly moist, cold smell of trees, rain and metallic traffic fumes. All of them created the painfully accurate sensual portrayal of the city; full of fears, unfulfilled dreams and expectations turning into despair.

I grabbed my phone and checked the time: only nine in the evening. I tied my long blonde hair up and put my hood on. I learned what to do to avoid attracting unnecessary attention. I decided to walk slowly; I did not want to come encounter my father. As far as I knew him, he was probably drinking his third beer on the sofa. Alternatively, he was in a pub with his friends, or at least people who he decided to consider as his friends. As much as it seemed utterly atrocious to tell something like this about my own parent, I could not possibly believe that anyone could like my father. To some extent, I simply hoped that other people could not possibly tolerate him if they had known how he has been treating me.

Closing my eyes,

 _I scream._

Here we go again.

"Just about time, blondie."

* * *

*occhiolism- the awareness of the smallness of your perspective

**ASBO – Anti-social Behaviour Order - a civil order to protect the public from behaviour that causes or is likely to cause harassment, alarm or distress. An order contains conditions prohibiting an individual from carrying out specific anti-social acts or (for example) from entering defined areas.

***note from the author: but as a person who used to live in Germany (4 years), I love both the language and the country

* * *

Deidara, Deidara - what is going to happen? I couldn't resist this ending. You will find out soon. I should only mention that you may have noticed that I often use the phrase: I scream, I close my eyes, Here we go again. It's a metaphore which is meant to link all my chapters.

Also - I always felt that Hidan was a restless soul, and he would certainly did some travelling at some point in his life. Besides, for some reason, I think that speaking German kind of suits him (and I don't think it's caused by my own sentiment).

Thank you for reading.


	4. Forgotten reality

"Just about time, blondie," Brandon smirked as he sized me up. I was cringing on the ground, holding my stomach. I felt the leaden taste of blood in my mouth and on my lips as the pain was radiating in my body.

I felt another kick, this time in the spine. Kyle put his leg on my back and laughed.

"And what now, bitch? It's getting too easy, you know?" Brandon's voice seemed to be reaching me from miles away. I wasn't able to respond; there were no words I wanted to voice, there was nothing I could or seek to do. All I wished for was some kind of painless darkness that would devour me.

My body was a poignant human misery - sore, aching and weak. I loathed myself for still being conscious; it could have, _should have_ , ended so much quicker.

"Are you even listening? Don't be disrespectful, you dirty whore," Brandon spat.

My face was speckled with tears, blood and dirt; if I was able to, I would laugh at my own misery. _Reduced to dirt on an asshole's sole_. There was nothing that could make it worse, was there?

"Leave… me alone," I stammered quietly.

"You know what? There's actually one thing that makes me wonder… Does Hidan already know what a scum you are?" The brown-haired man leant over me. "See, it seems we've got a classmate obligation, in case, you know, he gets a little bit confused about you," he laughed. "As far as I know, he hasn't beaten you up yet, huh? What are you now, his private whore?"

 _Hidan…_

"We'll have it sorted soon, don't you worry," he stated calmly. "But now… Shall we say it's enough for now?" I felt Brandon's hand gripping on my throat and shaking my body in comical disdain.

"See you later, bitch," Kyle snarled.

Slowly, I could see them going away. I inhaled the argillaceous scent of ground. I couldn't move my limbs and my back seemed stiff. I stayed motionless, afraid to try to change my position. I felt shivers wandering through my body. The night was approaching _. At least I knew where I was_. Brandon and his crew stopped me and started on me on my way home from school. There was an abandoned hangar two streets away from my house. The black walls were covered in more or less ambitious graffiti, and some of the casings missed glass. It used to be a club but had turned into wreck probably before I was born as I have never seen it in its old glory. In fact, the old club was a crypt for many of my most derogatory aspects of existence. The immense building came handy when Brandon and his pals found their way to turn my life into a nightmare. Funny, I thought, that scene was so dominant in my mind that I was recalling that even at the time when I wasn't able to _move_ , let alone think properly. That timeworn building devouring all screams, dissolving all the blood, accepting uneasy touch wasn't just my own chamber of secrets – it was a grave waiting to be buried.

I didn't know how much time passed since Brandon and his friends left. After a few seconds, minutes or hours, I cautiously decided to try to stand up. Leaning against the wall, I managed to get on my feet. Staggering slightly, I reached for my bag and jacket and allowed myself to let out a few deep breaths. I straightened my shirt and put the jacket on. I wish I had some water in my bag so I could clean myself up, or at least remove the blood stains from my face and hair. The last thing I wanted was to attract some curious looks or, more importantly, my father's attention. I could only pray to sneak into the bathroom unnoticed - was it so much to _beg_ for?

If he saw his son being _beaten up_ again, _raped_ again… Oh, he would _so_ beat crap up out of me. What else could he do to a child that turned out to be a _crying shame_? I was on the edge of breaking down; even they were hardly ever that brutal. This time, they simply razed me to the ground. Was it because of Hidan, or was it purely because they could? Some people say that psychopaths just like to evolve. I would never know.

I plunged my hand into my bag and pulled out tissues after a few seconds of foraying the inside of the bag. I clumsily wiped off some of the red liquid from my face and zipped my jacket to cover up as much of my face as I could. My hair was dishevelled and most likely dirty but there was nothing I could do about it. My only option was keeping my head down; sometimes I thought this was the only thing I should do in my life.

A sharp ache in my right calf made me limp. Luckily, I wasn't far away from home, and the street wasn't usually too busy. I passed only a few people, and maybe only some kids turned their head in my direction. Most people were staring at their phone screens, completely ignoring the surroundings – well, in this case, the disease of modern life came more than handy. Fighting with the pain in my limb, I finally made it to the door of my house. I hesitated before reaching for the key; _please, be asleep or gone, please_. I held my breath and twisted the key in the lock. The door opened; I quietly walked in and automatically froze to listen if my father was in the house. Once I couldn't hear a single sound, I made my way upstairs, where my room and the bathroom were located. I stormed into the bathroom as quickly as I could with my aching calf, and locked myself inside.

I could feel shivers carving my body. My breath became spastic and clipped. I turned the water in the shower on and threw my bag on the cold white tiles. I undressed and went to the shower cubicle. The hot water was running down my body and hair, masking tears, mixing with blood and mud. I grabbed the sponge and soap and started scrubbing my body as strongly and quickly as I could. The skin quickly became painfully irritated but I could not quite distinguish the ache among the overwhelming pain swathing my body. It was always the same; the urge to wash off any evidence of what has happened, as if it could change the past. I ended up kneeling in the shower, crying quietly to make sure I couldn't be heard if my father was back.

I examined new scratches and bruises on my body. My right calf was a little bit swollen but, fortunately, didn't seem broken. Not that I would know if it was actually broken – I wasn't a goddamn doctor – I just naively hoped for the best. I only supposed that if it was broken, I wouldn't be able to walk at all. It wasn't what I cared the most for. I could stand the slurs, even the beating – but the constant feeling of their hands on my body was burning down my consciousness. Was I paranoid? Was I going mad because I could still feel them treating me like the cheapest whore? If I was, this was the worst kind of madness I could think of; just another reason to despise myself for.

Hot water and pervasive steam made me befuddled. When I finally stepped out of the shower, I towelled off and wrapped up in the same damp towel. I took my dirty clothes and bag and moved to my room. I threw my belongings in the corner of my room and opened the wardrobe. I put on some loose t-shirt and sport trousers.

As if nothing ever happened.

 _Here we go again._

Suddenly, my phone started vibrating. At first, I hesitated, but then I decided to at least check who was trying to contact me.

Hidan.

Two unanswered calls.

2 texts.

"Are you still coming today?"

"Nvmd, will think about think other time."

I froze; today was Thursday. We were meant to meet up a couple of hours after school to work on that art project.

I did remember about it in the morning.

I did remember about it at school.

How could I forget?

 _How could I not?_

I tossed my phone across the bed. I couldn't think about this at that time. The familiar feeling of guilt rooted in my head but I just let it be; no matter what I did, I would always be screwed up in the end. _I would always screw up in the end._ No point in trying to fix something that has never worked.

Although it was only 8 in the evening, I decided to take my sleeping pills and fall asleep. I felt like there was a race in my mind and I was not able to control that; I needed to calm down.

One pill, a few nips of water.

I curled up on the bed and closed my eyes.

 _Here we go again._

* * *

Another chapter - unfortunately for Deidara, this story is, indeed, going to be quite a graphic one. And yet, I am not going to say a word about the end because, at this point, this story is nowhere close to the end.

Thank you for reading, I feel honoured to see that people actually read/comment. ❤︎


	5. The first sphere

I woke up twice throughout the night but I just took an extra half of the pill and made it to the morning. I felt absolutely exhausted and had extremely dry mouth, but those were just natural side effects of quetiapine. I quickly changed my clothes and went to the bathroom. Cold water awakened me a little bit. I checked up on my bruises; luckily, there was nothing I would not be able to cover with a solid dose of makeup.

Although my interest in makeup grew in me when I was a young boy, my objective of doing makeup has been changing over the years. At the beginning it was simple curiosity and desire to experiment with my look; make my face look like 'art'. As the years passed by, I was not as focused on emphasising the beauty as on covering things that should never be seen.

I put some conditioner and powder on my face, making sure that all my scars were completely invisible. I double checked the effects of my work, grabbed my things from my room and went downstairs, quietly closing the door. I was pleased to notice that my leg didn't hurt as much as it did yesterday. There was an ample

I went to the kitchen to grab some coffee and stiffed seeing my father sitting at the table. He was drinking tea

"Hello dad," I greeted him awkwardly.

I put two full teaspoons of coffee in my reusable cup and boiled the water. I added some sweetener and closed the cup.

"I didn't know you were home," he said plainly.

"Erm… I fell asleep early," I answered quickly, trying to avoid any eye contact.

My father didn't reply. Luckily, we hardly ever argued in the morning. He was too preoccupied with his morning pre-work routine. As a human resources officer, he held quite an important position in the company he was working for. People liked to say he was always organised and punctual; obviously, they also admired his alleged strength arising from being a widower and single father. Personally, I could, indeed, see and feel the strength, but from quite a different point of view.

I put headphones in my ears, took the coffee I made and murmured, "Bye," before walking out of the house.

The air smelt refreshing; one of the very few perks of mornings. The music was flowing in my mind, taking away worries and scaring away any distractions. All in all, I wasn't that afraid to face Brandon and his crew at school; I have been through this. They have been bullying me since the first day at school – it was not like I did not learn to accept certain matters after over two years of abuse. The only person I was genuinely concerned about was Hidan. I felt extremely guilty because of the situation I put us both into. _Oh God, I just stood him up! Him, the very first person who didn't treat me like a piece of shit. First mistake, Hidan,_ I laughed up my sleeve.

I got to the school a few minutes earlier. Going through the corridor, I noticed Hidan in the distance. I instinctively slowed down and took a deep breath. _Come on, Deidara, you won't avoid confronting him anyway._

The bell rang and I followed the group coming into the classroom.

"Deidara, you're alive," Hidan sneered, smirking slightly.

"Um… Listen, I'm so sorry about yesterday, I…" I started nervously, feeling my face turning red.

"Nevermind, don't worry," he replied impassively.

"I'm really…"

"No, I mean it. That's calm, really'", he shrugged it off.

Lost for words, I just turned my eyes on my notebook and didn't say a word till the break. Hidan did not seem to be pouting; in fact, as he said, he seemed absolutely unbothered, and that hurt me for some reason.

At the end of the class, I noticed Hidan leaving together with Brandon and Kyle. It made me a little bit sick but I just ignored it. I only hoped that they would not talk about me… even though I wasn't sure if that could matter in the end; I was not going anywhere with new friendships.

 _Nevermind._

Looking for something to do, I started doodling in my notebook. I started sketching a human posture. I was not fond of portraits or any other realistic drawings; I kept my works in a semi-surrealistic style – seemingly sloppy, rushed and obscenely inadequate. None of those was right. Nevertheless, I would agree to call it chaotic – there was something about my technique that was successfully stopping me from creating predictably logical images. I yearned for some chaos, lack control, unpredictability – well, one would say that, to some extent, I was only portraying how my life felt like. And yet, the process of creating art calmed has always been calming my nerves. No matter how distressed and sad I was, making art could not make me feel any worse; and it already meant an awful lot.

Around midday, I started feeling a little bit peckish. Not that I was too surprised; after all, I didn't have breakfast. This was not a novelty either. I hardly ever ate, which could actually be noticed, considering my very slim posture. Personally, I didn't mind the way I looked; I have never aspired to be muscular, and the gym was one of the last places where I would want to go to. The only thing that did annoy me, obviously, was the lack of food. It all started after my mother's death. When she died and my father became even more aggressive towards me, going to the kitchen or having family meals became an absolute bother. If there was a way to escape from my father's jibes or violence, I would make sure to make the most of it. On top of all of this, my father wasn't a cook. He would order a takeaway or eat out with his colleagues, or just drink some alcohol. For me, it meant that most of my meals consisted of some cereals, yoghurts and ready meals as long as they didn't cost a fortune. Well, to be honest, I did not really mind that; even simple trying to imagine myself a few pounds heavier would make me frown in disgust. However, I didn't think that I suffered from any kind of eating disorders; it wasn't like I was purposely starving myself. I just happened to have an abusive father, bullies making the most of their advantage over me and personal aesthetics which were different than most people's preferences. _Not a big deal, right?_

Just when I finished off sketching a huge bird alike creature, I heard Hidan's voice. I raised my head and saw him coming back with the same squad. They were all laughing over something. I instantly felt anxious – _did they tell him about me?_

"Hello princess," shouted Brandon, sending me a piercing look.

I didn't respond, staring blankly in his face.

"See, Hidan, he's always like that," Brandon said to Hidan, still eyeing me up. "Pouty, a little bit boring princess. You can have some fun with him, though, but you have to arrange it all on your own," he drawled, giving me one of his most annoying spiteful grins.

"Stop it," I murmured.

"I like the way you're saying that, honey," Brandon purred, and I instantly froze.

 _God, no, no, no, shut up, no._

"See you've got a history, huh?" asked Hidan, whose facial expression seemed unreadable.

"Long and sweet, man," laughed Kyle.

"You should see that bitch in action. He gets quite emotional when you push the right buttons…"

"Or kick in the right spot," coughed Brandon.

"The hell is wrong with you?" the albino snarled. "It's fucking sick!" he continued, inspecting Brian with crossed arms.

"Oh, I…" Brandon looked puzzled.

"It's nothing," I said quickly. "They're only joking… right?" I asked, scrutinising Brandon and Kyle nervously.

"Jo… Yeah, obviously. Ban, it's just banter," Kyle picked up. "Don't look so worried, Hidan," he laughed uneasily.

"It doesn't seem any fucking close to banter, man," the albino spat coldly. "You've got a problem with him, yeah? You've been talking some shit about him for a while. I'm cool with you but don't fuck around with people like this. Unless there's something I don't know…?" Hidan asked sharply.

"Nah, easy, man. It's all good. Right, Deidara?" Brandon turned to me.

"Yeah, sure…" I mumbled.

I wasn't quite sure if I had just saved my so-called dignity, or made one the biggest mistakes in my life. It just seemed so much easier to pretend that everything was fine. I didn't even know Hidan that well; I couldn't just say that they've been _torturing_ me for years.

However, there was one surprisingly positive aspect: Hidan… stood up for me? I supposed that Brandon and Kyle wanted to recruit a new bully, but things did not quite go the way they had planned. What do people call it… _Balance of nature_?

The bell rang. Brandon and Kyle turned back and went to the classroom. Hidan was still glancing at me, waiting for me to come up.

"Are you sure you're okay, Deidara?" He asked, putting his hands into the pockets.

"It's all fine. Thank you…" I muttered, smiling slightly.

"If they've got a problem with you, let me know, yeah? It's like… They're alright and all, but this shit that's going on between you is sick," he added angrily.

"I'll be okay," I assured him cheerlessly. "Thank you."

I really did. Gratitude did not occur on my daily list of feelings; and yet, on that day, that peculiarly warm feeling made it to the top of the chart.

"Hey, Hidan," I turned to the albino after the last class of the day. "Can you wait for me?"

"Yeah, sure," the albino replied, typing something on his phone with a tiny smile on his face.

I carelessly threw my things from the desk into the bag and followed Hidan, who was already scrambling through the crowd. I followed him to the school entrance and gracefully welcomed a wave of fresh autumn air.

"Hidan, hey," I reminded the albino about my existence.

He looked up at me, putting down his phone for a second.

"Once again, sorry for screwing up yesterday," I declared remorsefully. Hidan smiled and shook his head.

"I told you ten times by now, it doesn't really matter, we're cool," he replied in a bored tone. "It's just a project, who really cares about school stuff," he shrugged his arms.

I bit my lips – maybe he was right? Maybe it was just me feeling extraordinarily guilty for letting down someone whom I actually wanted to meet in a really long time?

"Sorry for bothering you, I just…"

"Man," he stopped me, raising his hand. "Calm down. You're apologising for something every. Goddamn. Minute," he said, emphasising the last three words. "It almost makes _me_ feel guilty," he rolled his eyes.

"So…" _Shit_. "Erm, okay," I mumbled, absolutely sure that my face was purple red.

"But since we started talking about it, and you are the I-am-so-sorry kind of person, why didn't you let me know you weren't coming?"

"Something came up. I had to… I mean, my father called me and asked to do some shopping, and I kind of lost it in terms of time," I lied smoothly. I knew it did not seem a legit excuse but I didn't want to make things too complicated. I knew from experience how it felt to get lost in my own lies.

"Fair enough. Well, at least I don't have to worry about such shit", he stated with a grin. "But you don't have to do anything today, then?"

"No, not really," I replied maybe too enthusiastically.

"So I think you do now." The albino smirked, crossing his arms.

 _I close my eyes again._

* * *

Funny thing - although I have over 24k words written for this story already, publishing is a different matter - but you won't have to wait for a new chapter too long. I will be grateful to hear your opinions.


	6. Teaching before the storm

"So what is exactly going on between Brandon and you?" Hidan asked abruptly.

I dig my fingers into my arm unwittingly. "Well, we just don't get along, that's all," I replied simply.

"Don't get me wrong, but I haven't seen you talking to anyone in this class, and they've been treating you like shit," the albino blurted out. "Like, seriously. I hang out with some other guys and they're cool and stuff, but they always say some shit about you."

My face turned red but, at the same time, I was partially glad it finally came out. It was not like I didn't expect that; I just feared to experience that awkward moment.

"Well, yeah, I'm not the popular guy here," I tried to brush it off. "So I assume you heard I'm a, wait…" I paused, mockingly acting as if I was trying to figure out something. "Oh yeah, a faggot, bitch, trans, weirdo… Also, I'm a total chemsex* slut and some pseudo-art freak," I said bitterly with a twinge of defiance.

"Pretty much," Hidan summed up, grinning slightly. "Why?"

"I don't know, it's always been this way," I mumbled. "I suppose there's just something about me that most people hate. Maybe my hair, or the absolutely horrendous eyeliner" I smirked.

"Bullshit. You shouldn't allow that." Hidan seemed slightly bewildered. I wondered if he actually realised who he was talking to. _Come on, I'm no fighter._

"There's not much I can do, yeah? But come on, I got used to it. IT's not like they want to kill me or something," I cut off, not sure if I was telling the truth. If those people were not killing me, they were certainly making sure that I wished to be dead sooner rather than later.

"Hey, if they beat you up, I can…"

"No, leave it, please," I shrugged off. "Don't make yourself problems. If you get along with them, that's good for you. Not everyone has to be friends, right? I'm just fine. But thank you - you're actually the first one to talk to me in a while, you know?"

"I think you deserve better," laughed Hidan. "But anyway, as you wish. I just fucking hate bullies, you know? It's fucking pathetic to just fucking show around and pretend to be something better than a piece of shit that you are," he added heatedly.

"Then I believe we both ended up in a wrong school, huh."

"Not that it's something new for me… I've never really cared about my classmates. You see, it's funny because people were usually all friendly and they wanted me to be their friend for some reason. It's just… I don't really care. I never _care_." Suddenly, despite his fierce character, he seemed a bit nostalgic.

"You know, you've lived in a few different countries so far, you've seen a lot. You've met a lot of people. Nothing lasts forever, right? But maybe the transience brings beauty to this world," I remarked, subconsciously thinking about my art.

"You really talk like an artist," Hidan smirked. "But maybe you have a point, I'm not the one to judge, right? It won't change anything anyway."

I let myself ponder on his words. He appeared so… numb? As if he was never worried by anything. He seemed not to worry about being liked or hated, about living in one country or another or the school work. I was not sure if I envied him or was absolutely terrified by the idea.

"Do you want anything to drink?" Hidan's voice shook me out of pensiveness.

"Huh? Yeah, sure," I responded, blinking.

"I knew you wouldn't say no," Hidan chuckled and stood up. "So, what do you want? Whiskey, vodka, Jägermeister**, absinth? I wouldn't start with the last one, though…" he added.

"You've got quite a range, considering we're still underage, you know", I noticed. Bearing in mind that he seemed to live alone, which was a bit extraordinary on its own, this guy's life seemed more carefree than I had previously thought.

"Hey, I'm actually 18, so speak for yourself, _kid_." The albino laughed. "Besides, my father is not even in this country at the moment, and I bet he doesn't even care what I buy for the money he sends me. It's not like I'm a full rebel or something," he affirmed.

"Lucky you, then," I mumbled and ran my fingers through my hair. I stood up and added, "I want to have a look and choose myself."

I followed Hidan to the kitchen, once again appreciating his flat. I could only wish I had such a spacious place where I could do anything I wished. Of course, my flat surely would not be so _empty_. The walls would have a slightly almond shade, and I would surely have a lot of paintings, my sculptures and art accessories everywhere. I would definitely buy way too many lamps, lights and candles, black and red cushions, and, maybe, if I had enough money, I would also install a fireplace in the living room.

"Considering that this place seems quite posh, I'm surprised you don't store alcohol in some sort of wooden cabinet," I joked, trying to mask my slight discomfort.

Hidan chuckled, "Hey, come on! I'm not like that! Besides, if I didn't have alcohol in there, the kitchen would be _literally_ empty." He opened one of the big white shelves and proved himself right.

"Food is for the weak, huh?"

"I thought it was sleep…" he pondered, making me laugh again. I thought I could have count all the times he had made me smile as I could swear the statistics have risen dramatically since we have met.

"Anyways, there you go. This Jägermeister," he said, holding the bottle with green liquid, "is actually from Germany. I swear it tastes just so much better than the shit you can get in ASDA*** or some other shops in this shithole."

"Oh god, don't even get me started – I absolutely hate the sick anise-herbal taste of it. But I think that's the whole point of Jägermeister anyway so I'd rather stick to something that doesn't taste like herbarium."

"You're missing out, mate," stated Hidan. "And you're picky," he jested.

In the end, I turned out to be not picky at all. Apart from yearning for a normal conversation with someone who would respect me, I didn't really mind any kind of alcohol. My drinking habits were a bit pathetic, though, as I could only see a point in drinking if I knew I would end up really drunk in the end. If I was home, I would drink to the point when I would just doze off on my bed, blessed with carefree sleep. And… well, since I've never been a popular kid, I've never really had an occasion to drink together with other people. And then, there I was, with Hidan, teaching me humanity.

A few hours later, I knew I was drunk. I could not actually tell if Hidan was, too. However, at that time, this was not my concern. The only thing that was worrying me was the urgent need to share details from my personal life with him. I knew it was a horrible idea, and yet…

"Deidara, are you okay?" I heard Hidan. I turned my head in his direction; he looked a bit amused.

"Sure… I'm just fine," I muttered, trying to sound certainly soberly. I didn't like the fact that Hidan had, apparently, quite a strong head. "It's just… been a while since the last time I hung out with someone. It's been fucking ages." I rolled my eyes, and Hidan snickered.

"Well, you're not a heavy drinker, I must say," the albino pointed out, and, _damn_ , he was right.

I shook my head, trying to control myself. _It's such a funny pattern_ , I thought – _when you are not able to take control over your life, you let your whole energy be consumed by your own inner urge to restrict your own self_. Desperation, one would say.

But I started talking.

And we spent countless hours talking. Bearing in mind my anxiety and some sort of permanent trauma, it was, indeed, a peculiar phenomenon.

I had to look like an utter fool, but I started telling Hidan how much I hated pretty much everything about my life. Fortunately, I didn't mention anything about my father finding me a disappointment, or Kyle and Brendon treating me like a whore to fuck and beat up. The albino didn't interrupt me. At the beginning, I wasn't sure whether he was paying attention to what I was saying or rather wondering how long it would take for me to shut the fuck up. And yet, he let me speak.

No, the morning after, I couldn't remember everything I had said. Fortunately, I was absolutely sure what I _had not said_ , and what I _had not done_. I deeply trusted my inner instinct and will to protect my secrets; I knew I could not have said anything about the abuse.

Luckily, I still remembered most of what Hidan said. I noticed that he was swearing way more often when he was drunk, but I did not really mind. He was talking about his life in Germany; how much he hated German, and still couldn't speak it fluently. He mentioned his ex-girlfriend, Olivia, who left him because he was cheating on her. The weirdest thing I could recall, however, was some sort of religion he seemed passionate about. I spotted a silver medallion on his chest the day before and asked about it. That simple question provoked quite a long lecture on something that Hidan called 'LaVeyan Satanism'*. Hidan stated that he was not a Satanist himself; yet, he believed in some of the ultimate truths which Satanists followed. I remember that he even listed something he called 'The Nine Satanic Sins'. Surprisingly, I discovered that Satanists despised stupidity, pretentiousness and people who did not have any aesthetics. As much as the one made me giggle, Satanism, after all, did not seem so vile. The only thing that Hidan seemed not to agree with was self-harm; the albino announced that although Satanists believe that self-harm is a result of stupidity and, therefore, should not be practised, Hidan thought that self-harm was a way to pay for your sins and worship the deity.

At that point, I became overly concerned about Hidan, but he assured me that, since it was a necessary aspect of his life, his self-mutilation did not result in any serious wounds. I could see that drunk Hidan was very passionate about the religion of his, so I decided not to dwell on that subject. I suppose that was not a long time before I actually passed out.

To my both horror and relief, I woke up on a sofa in Hidan's living room. I couldn't see Hidan anywhere, so I assumed he was in his room. My head was pounding and my lips were dry, but the awareness of that I was not in my own house instantly helped me to sober up. I stood up and looked around; the room seemed fairly clean. I couldn't see my bag or jacket anywhere, and my anxiety started to streak in; let's say, the situation was not ideal. I was alone in a living room in an apartment owned by a guy whom I met only a few days earlier. I didn't have my phone with me and didn't feel too well.

 _Not ideal, not ideal at all._

I took a deep breath to calm down; a panic attack was the last thing I needed at that time. Well, not that I ever needed it…

"Hey, you're up."

 _What?_

I nearly jumped. Hidan was standing in the door with crossed arms. He had his that famous smirk of him on his face. I exhaled and rolled my eyes.

"Jeez, calm down," the albino said, looking as if he was about to burst into laughter.

"Erm… yeah, I think I'm awake," I mumbled. "What time is it?"

"Nearly noon," Hidan replied. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay, I suppose… You?"

"I'm fine, man," the albino snorted. He actually seemed quite rested. He didn't have shadows under eyes and I could swear that he already managed to put some fancy gel on his hair. He was wearing a black t-shirt with the name 'Rammstein****' and some sort of cross on it.

"Have you seen my phone, by chance?"

"Yeah, it's in my room. Is your father gonna kill you?" Hidan smirked.

"Nah, it's calm," I denied, trying not to look stressed. In fact, of course, I was worried. I knew that my father would not really care if something happened to me; he would be only angry because I hadn't told him that I wasn't going to come back home for the night. Although there was a chance that he did not notice my absence as I was usually locked up in my room, if he did find out that I was not there, I was more than likely to be in a serious trouble.

"That's good. Sometimes I forget not everyone has parents who don't give a crap about family stuff."

"Oh, believe me – my father doesn't give a crap about me," I assured him bitterly. "He just likes to look for an excuse to have a go at me," I added, deciding to omit the drunk binge beating part.

Hidan's smile set. "Yeah, I know."

"But it doesn't matter now," I stated. _What's done is done, right?_ "I need to drink," I whined, lifelessly falling on the sofa. Hidan shook his head.

"Loser," he mocked. "If you can't move, I'll get you some water," he said, and I closed my eyes, nestling in the soft sofa. I could swear I was ready to fall asleep again within a couple of minutes. But then I heard Hidan coming back. I did not bother to open my eyes; and yes, I regretted that afterwards. A moment later, I felt a splash of cold water on my face and hair. I jumped with a shriek, completely baffled.

"HIDAN!", I screamed, hearing the other's laughter.

"You wanted some water, right?"

"I'll think twice next time, thanks," I growled. "I'm going to the bathroom," I announced, hiding my face in my hands.

"You don't have to cover up your face, you know. Your makeup doesn't have to be on fleek 24/7…" Hidan shouted behind me but I ignored him.

"Where's my bag?"

"In my room", I heard him saying. I entered his room and looked around. Hidan's room still wasn't a mess, but the empty bottles of whisky and some crisps on the bed were definite pieces of evidence of the last night. Luckily, it didn't take me long to locate my bag. I grabbed it and went to the bathroom. Inside, I locked the door and glanced in the mirror to see that, fortunately, I overreacted.

Since I was regularly beaten, I always bought waterproof makeup to cover the bruises. That is how no one could ever tell that I was beaten up. It worked brilliantly but, at the same time, I hardly ever needed to worry about it as my interactions with other people were limited to encounters with those who were creating the violence and those who thought I was just a freak.

Although my makeup was, indeed, a bit blurred and certainly not fresh, my bruises were still covered. I decided to wash off the old makeup and put on new layers of foundation and powder. As much as it could be seen as ridiculous, I always had micellar cleansing water and my makeup tools in my bag. Just in case.

After a few seconds, I could face my true self. My bony face was covered with older and newer bruises; some of them were rotten green, while the others seemed purple. I look disgusting, I thought bleakly. I didn't even want to ponder on how Hidan would react to seeing me like this.

 _To seeing who I really am._

Although my skin was not as pale as Hidan's, it radiated an unhealthy shade of whitish grey. That colour, unlike the purple bruise marks, was most likely a result of my poor diet and sleeping problems. I sighed and started applying the foundation on my face. I tried to do it as quickly as possible since I did not want Hidan to get both annoyed and suspicious.

A few minutes later, I left the bathroom and came back to the living room. Hidan wasn't there but I could already hear him moving some mugs in the kitchen. I called his name.

"I thought you died at some point," the albino exclaimed. Moments later, I saw him entering the living room with two mugs in his hands; I could already recognise the strong smell of coffee.

Hidan handed me one cup and put the other one on the small black table in front of the sofa.

"Thanks," I beamed, relishing the strong scent of coffee.

"I didn't know if you like coffee or not… but if you don't, then I'll personally make you change your mind," the albino declared, smiling slyly.

"Coffee is fine, thanks." I took a sip. The coffee was bitter; sometimes it was better this way. I always drank a lot of drinks high in caffeine to keep myself at least fairly energised throughout the day.

"Makeup on point," commented Hidan, apparently studying my face. I blushed slightly and brushed away my long hair.

I wasn't sure what to answer, so I decided to smile, hoping that wouldn't come across as an example of a typical idiotic behaviour, especially that, as I had realised, Hidan didn't seem to suffer from any symptoms of hangover. He did have a stronger head than me.

"I just like it this way," I said, shrugging my arms.

"I didn't say it was bad," the albino replied. "It suits you."

"Well, you did mistake me for a girl," I snickered.

"And I would make the same mistake today if I didn't know you," he stated firmly. "No offence, though."

"I'll take it as a compliment then."

And I did. Who would have thought that my desperate attempt to cover my bruises could be a reason for a compliment? Oh, the irony – I often felt like one of its beloved children.

No, we haven't done the project.

No, we have not even talked about it.

When I left Hidan's flat, however, I felt a peculiar flexion of happiness; tentative and nearly impalpable, and yet very much alive in my mind, ready to be adapted to my life.

But then... I came back home. Trying to sink into the peaceful silence, I froze; I was not alone.

 _I close my eyes again._

* * *

*chemsex - sex between men that occurs under the influence of drugs taken immediately before and/or during sexual contact. The main drugs chemsex refers to are GHB/GBL, mephedrone, crystal meth, cocaine and ketamine.

**German herbal spirit

***one of the main supermarket chains in the UK

****Rammstein - a metal band from Germany

* * *

A little bit more information about Hidan and, in particular, his religion. At this point, I want to explain a few things, including my reason for choosing LaVeyan Satanism as Hidan's possible religion. As someone who actually read the whole Satanist's Bible (and I'm not a satanist - just a curious individual), I was able to compare Satanism and Jashinism (even though, sadly, Jashinism hasn't been greatly explained in the anime/manga). Some of the dead sins in satanism are intolerance, self-deceit, pretentiousness and demanding other people to have the same beliefs as the Satan's follower. Although Hidan as a Jashinist sacrifices people who don't follow Jashin, I decided to alter that for the sake of 21st century. I believe that, these days, sadly, it is more shocking to be tolerant than to kill people in the name of a 'god' - and still, Satanism itself sparks a lot of controversy. Therefore, considering both the controversy of satanism and its rules, which seem less 'scary' than one could suppose, I've chosen LaVeyan Satanism as Hidan's religion. Personally, I do recommend you familiarising yourself with the Satanist's Bible - although I do not identify myself as a satanist, I must admit that reading that piece helped me to see that the rumours about satanism are greatly far-fetched.

Thank you for reading, you can expect a new chapter soon.


	7. A being made of glass

"Where have you been the whole night?" My father's voice was rumbling in my ears. He was standing just in front of me, his face was inches away from mine. I was paralysed. No matter how many times he approached me; every time, I found myself unable to move.

"I just… stayed at my friend's place," I mumbled, staring at the floor.

 _Hit._

"Stop lying to me, you fucking brat," he spat.

 _Hit._

"You."

 _Hit._

"Don't."

 _Hit._

"Any."

 _Hit._

"Friends."

 _Hit._

I didn't even try to protect myself. I was standing there like a glass statue; unable to move, ready to break.

I screamed in agony when he grabbed my wrists, pitched me to the wall and kicked me in the stomach. The blood was assembling in my mouth and my left eye and cheek were pulsing with a burning pain.

"I'm sorry," I whined. "Please, stop…"

Another hit right in my stomach. It was such a convenient spot; no broken bones, no visible marks, and yet, a guarantee of suffering. I instinctively curled up as much as I could being pinned to the wall.

"You are a fucking disgrace," my father drawled furiously. "Letting other people kick you around, just like a whore. You are _not_ my son!"

"Please, leave me," I wailed; my voice was cracking. I had tears in my eyes but I tried my best not to let them run; I knew it would trigger another wave of violence.

"My son... acting like a stupid whore. You disgust me" he hissed coldly.

He released my wrists and stormed out of the living room. I ran to my room and quietly closed the door. As much as I wanted to just shut them, I didn't want to risk. Then, I leaned against the door and hid my face in my hands. I was trembling and tears started running down my face. Both pain and fear were draining from my body. I covered my mouth with one hand to stop myself from making any noises that my father could possibly hear, and stayed in that position till my legs and back became numb.

I didn't even get a chance to say a word. Would it even matter, though? If course it wouldn't. I was already lost to my father. And yet, I wasn't dead – I was still moving around, desperately trying to catch a breath, always ready for another punch. And so it functioned, and this was the only family I knew.

Of course, I did remember my mother. She passed away when I was thirteen; she died in a car crash. It was early winter, and she was going home from work. She worked as an accountant on the on the other side of the city, and usually arrived at home not too late - around 6 in the evening. In winter, it was already dark at that time. On that ill-fated day, a young driver did not manage to stop his car on an ice-covered road. My mother died in the hospital after two days spent in a come; the doctors said she did not suffer.

Neither I nor my father could really embrace her death. I started spending most of my time locked in my room doing absolutely nothing, thinking about nothing, feeling like nothing. However, as my father did not allow me to stay home for the rest of my life, I soon came back to school and my bullies, who didn't see a reason to give me a break; they were unaware of my mother's death. My father did not want this to be revealed; he only informed the teacher as he knew she would have started asking questions otherwise. I still don't know why he acted in that way but I could assume he did not want other people to pity me - me, his son, the one who wanted me to someone completely different.

My father had been drinking before my mother died, but her death led to deepening his addiction. He also became even more nervous and unpredictable than before. Although he had been beating me occasionally before my mother's decease, the violence became a permanent fixture of our life afterwards. If there was something that I sought to unveil, it was not the reason for the hatred towards me; it was the reason for his ability to maintain a decent job and still have a group of friends by his side. Was he just excellent at pretending to be someone else, or was it me who was not important enough to be an impediment in his social and business life? In the end, did it really _matter_? I could not possibly apprehend his anger. I knew it would not matter if I tried to change. I couldn't be good enough. I wouldn't be able to be a convincing fake version of my old self. I couldn't just become stronger, more masculine, more like someone else. Even if I tried, I would always stay the same Deidara whom he despised so much.

And that was how, in the end, nothing really mattered. How could I possibly enjoy the presence of the new guy if my reality was filled with anger and shame? I couldn't try to pretend that I was living an ordinary life brought up in a middle-class family; a life that one could accept. I wasn't meant to have friends, I wasn't meant to hang around with people who treated me as an equal. I could nearly depict the confused or disgusted look on Hidan's face if he saw my scars and realise how weak I was. I was nothing like him.

 _I open my eyes again._

I could still hear my father downstairs, so I decided not to leave my room. I was quite used to it; that was why I always kept some caffeinated drinks and water next to my bed and, if I felt like eating, some snacks to keep me fairly energised throughout the day. I never ate much, though, as if I believed that it was easier to gradually disappear and blend in the society as a ghost that one wouldn't notice.

I slowly stood up and took a gel for bruising and swelling. I had a few tubes of that gel as, after so many years, finding a new pharmacy to buy medicines for injuries every time was an absolute nightmare; and so, I was always stocking up. I hated the arbitrary or concerned look on the cashier's face. If I felt confident, I would smoothly lie about my alleged sport injuries, but, after years of abuse, I lost my counterfeit entanglement and will. I sighed and carefully applied the gel to my cheek, stomach and both wrists and arms. Afterwards, I threw the gel away on the floor and lied down on my bed. I wanted to sleep; what else could I do? I would listen to music or turn my laptop on to watch something, but I could never force myself to do something _fun_ after beating. For some reason, I always felt just drained and full of hatred towards both my father and myself. I was not able to possibly pretend and distract myself from the reality.

After a few hours, I decided to sculpt. Sculpting and painting were the only escape from my everyday life that I would never abandon. The fleeting joy of doing something so unreal and detached from the world I lived in was giving me the greatest pleasure I could possibly imagine. However, yes – I always destroyed most of my sculptures and paintings. After minutes, hours or days, the feelings deceased and were not actual anymore; the world they were created in was not exactly the same as a few days later. The shades did not seem as vibrant, the moves of the brush weren't spontaneous anymore. They needed to be destroyed; just as another layer of me was destroyed by another beating.

 _Here we go again._

"Deidara?"


	8. Rubatosis

"Deidara? How the hell did you manage to make it on your own?" Hidan inquired, looking at me in disbelief.

"I told you, I'm used to working on my own. Even in group projects," I teased him, but the albino did not seem too amused.

"You could have just called me yesterday, I would have come over to do something," He insisted, crossing his arms. Although there was no sign of anger in his voice, I could sense a twinge of a peculiar impatience or annoyance, and I could not quite decide which one dominated.

"But that's fine, seriously. But I think we both need to say something about the project so listen; I wasn't sure what to do so I just went for shoes. I came up with two different ideas for new collections. One is for more quirky designs, you know, flowers, colours and stuff, but in the Adrian* style," I started, but then I noticed Hidan's hopeless look.

He stayed quiet for a few moments just to let out a raddled, "In fucking what?".

"Erm, let me show you," I grabbed my phone and showed him a few screenshots of the projects that I saved. "These shoes," I started, pointing my finger at the screen, "are quite classic; they are supposed to be made out of some traditional grain leather and are similar to brogues. But I wanted to make them look different so I went for some hipster designs," I flipped the image, "and that is why I put some colours and flowers on them so they seem... refurbished?"

"Man, that's fucking amazing," Hidan grunted, taking the phone from me. "How did you make all of this?"

"You can find shoe templates online, and then I just added some colours and patterns in Photoshop. It's not such a big deal, you know," I murmured, secretly flattered by Hidan's positive reaction. "But I'm glad you like it. So… You just have to basically say what I've just said to you. I'll describe the other design, which is a variation of Winchester** collection. I added double platforms and mixed black and lilac to distinguish them a little bit," I continued, handing Hidan my phone. The albino gazed at the project as I awaited his reaction. As with everything linked to art, I always felt insecure; I was both proud of my work and afraid of incomprehension or unjustified critique.

"Okay, okay," Hidan nodded, giving me back my phone. "I swear that I won't screw that upeven just because you had to spend the whole night on this... But ,again, you should have just called me," the albino added with a smirk on his face. I smiled back and glanced up to the ceiling.

I didn't want to tell him how awfully I felt the day after beating. I was extremely anxious and had one of my small panic attacks. I couldn't catch my breath, and even simple thinking about talking to somebody would make me tremble. After hours of sitting curled up on the floor, I decided to do the project to keep myself busy and make sure that Hidan wouldn't be pissed off at me. I could not possibly meet him and casually announce that I screwedup, or pretend that nothing ever happened; pretending was always way more exhausting than one could suppose.

Luckily, the class passed without any major issues. I gladly let Hidan do a part of the talking; for some reason, he made me feel more confident about standing up in front of the whole class. It also seemed that his presence protected me from at least most of the humourless jokes made by my classmates that I already remembered by heart. Maybe if I was someone else, I would be jealous of the respect other people had towards Hidan, but being the usual self, I couldn't care less. I knew it would never be me who could stand in front of all those people and would not be laughed at.

As the lunch break started, I saw Hidan disappearing somewhere with Jack and Maria. Jack was another Brandon's friend, and Maria was just a punk girl from our class. I think I have never spoke to her directly; she was usually surrounded by her friends and, occasionally, a guy who was, at that time, her boyfriend. I didn't know anything about her, apart from that she was always trying to be the _edgy girl_ ; she would wear boots, a pink shirt, a corset and, at the top of all of this, she would probably stick some flowers in her hair. She was, indeed, quite pretty; she usually dyed her hair pink and had quite a slim yet sporty posture. Maybe she wasn't the typical school beauty, but she probably never intended to be one. If she wasn't laughing at me together with other people, I might have even liked her.

Nevertheless, I had more important things to worry about than Maria. I wasn't interested in women, and I was more than certain that I haven't even encountered a woman who would be interested in me in my whole life. I was more focused on my new bruises made by my father last weekend. My abdomen was still weirdly bluish after the beating, and I noticed that my heart was beating much faster from time to time without any particular reason. I wasn't sure if it was the first step to my well-earned paranoia, or maybe something was actually wrong. Of course, I already googled the potential cause… The list started with internal bleeding and ended with permanent paralysis, so I did not take it very seriously. And yet, I was worried. I sighed and grabbed my bag to take some paracetamol, which I always had in the nearby. I hoped this would help, and also decided to make a compress as soon as I would be back home. I would have done that on Sunday, but I stupidly believed that the issue would solve itself. _I still haven't learnt – issues never solve themselves._

When the break was nearly finished, Hidan, who was luckily alone again, came up to me and asked if I wanted to join him, Maria and Jack after school.

"…you're not serious," I stated bluntly.

"I am very fucking serious," Hidan smirked. "Come on… We're going to a pub", he added, as if that fact was the key to my heart.

"Nah, really. If you haven't noticed, I'm not a popular person. Don't make your friends suffer," I tried to be nonchalant but it did not really work out, and I ended up sounding like a hopelessly rebellious teenage girl. _Again, Deidara, again_.

"Deidara, don't be like that," the albino pouted. "If you're gonna stay in your room fucking forever, how can anyone change their mind about you?" Although the albino probably didn't realise how much these words could hurt me, I felt as if he just stabbed me in my heart. _I should thank him for another nice reminder of who I am_ , I thought ironically.

"Okay, fine… I'll see then, okay?" I asked tentatively. I was pretty sure I wouldn't go anywhere but I didn't want to prolong that conversation; I already felt that Hidan could be very persistent… or caring?

"Okay. We're meeting at Firerocks on Marmion Road, do you know where it is?" For some reason, the albino seemed genuinely content.

"Yeah, I think so. If not, I have navigation, yeah?"

"Great."

"But… As I said, I'm not sure if I'm coming," I insisted, making the albino roll his eyes once again.

"Right, right. I want to see your unsure ass at 8 in the pub." Hidan grinned, turned around without waiting for my response and stepped into the classroom.

"Sure..." I mumbled more to myself than to him. A depressed introvert, part-time punching bag, ordered to socialise with people who hated him. That afternoon just couldn't get any better, right? And all I wanted was to just sleep through the rest of the day and pray for my poor organs to a whole new selection of gods. How could Hidan possibly understand? If I were him, I would never be able to even imagine any of these issues. I couldn't blame him for being unaware of the existence of a semi-world of shame.

It was nearly 7 in the evening, and I was laying on my bed with a warm compress on my stomach. After one more paracetamol, the pain slightly reduced. I could swear that if maybe I had some more motivation and less love for art, I would have considered studying medicine at the university after finishing the sixth form. _With all my experience in dealing with various injuries, I would be a pioneer_ , I thought sarcastically.

The fact that I felt better didn't mean that I was going to go to the pub. No. _No way_. Being alone was miserable but the perspective of spending time with other people filled me with anxiety and some sort of unexplained exhaustion which I could not just fight off. To be honest, I might only want to be there for Hidan, as he was the first person whom I could describe as friendly towards me. Besides, being out meant that I would be less likely to come across my father; he wasn't home yet and his absence was likely to mean that he went off to a pub or a restaurant with his colleagues. However, he was as much likely to go straight to bed as to find me and start an argument. Either way, it was all dependent on him. I was dependant on him, no matter how much I loathed both him and myself for it.

I closed my eyes, trying not to contemplate on problems that could not be possibly solved. The only issue with that was that, trying not to think about anything, I could feel the passing time. Every minute seemed to fill me with an odd pressure as if I had a challenge to face; maybe I actually had one.

Frustrated with the inability to deal with my own mind, I put my phone on a side and tried to relax. Some people said that meditation is a cure to every problem. _If it could at least calm me down, that would be just enough_ , I thought.

I wasn't sure how much time has passed when I heard the front door banging. My father came home. My muscles tensed up; I sat on my bed and waited in silence. I heard him coming upstairs. A moment later, he just opened my door. My eyes widened as I looked up at him.

"Deidara, what are you doing?" he asked. He was still in his grey office suit, which was always making him look like an exemplary working man, the head of the family. _How ironical was that?_

"Nothing," I replied carefully. "I was doing some work and decided to take a break. My stomach hurts so I'm just dealing with that," I added. I could never tell if my father would beat me or not, but I knew what could make it less likely to happen. It has been years since I figured out one of his reasons for the hatred: he despised my weakness. Therefore, I always tried to emphasise that there was something I could handle; even a tiny detail such as dealing with pain, which he caused, might possibly make a difference.

"That's good," he answered plainly. "Well, maybe you should eat something. You're thin like a fucking whore," he glared at me with disapproval.

"Will do, thank you, dad," I mumbled, trying my best to look him in the eyes.

After a few moments of awkward silence, my father left. I exhaled in relief; it seemed that he had one of his better days. When those happened, I always tried to show him my best side or, more precisely, the side of me he was always longing for. I waited a few more minutes, and then put away my compress and decided to go down to the kitchen. The thought of food made me realise that I didn't eat anything on that day, and I was actually hungry. I went downstairs and passed my father, who was already sitting in the living room. He was probably going to watch the news on the TV with a bottle of cider in his hand. He turned his head in my direction and glowered at me. I gave him a soft, fake smile, and headed to the kitchen.

I opened one of the top kitchen shelves: pasta, rice, cornflakes, canned vegetables, corn beef and tuna. I sighed; I couldn't be asked to cook. I turned my eyes on the inside of our fridge: milk and Greek yoghurt. I grabbed the yoghurt, took the whole box of cornflakes and picked up a teaspoon from another shelf. I quietly went back to my room, sat down in front of my desk and opened the yoghurt. I switched on my laptop and started eating, gazing at the screen. Once the laptop showed the main screen, I realised that it was already half past nine. _Hidan_. Although I didn't want to go there in the first place, I still felt guilty.

I decided to focus on something as mindless as scrolling down Facebook; where I then noticed Maria's new photos; one ridiculous aspect of global social media addiction is that even if people hate each other in the real life, they are more than likely to be friends online. Maria was usually posting some dull selfies or photos from festivals and concerts; on that day, she added a photo of her and Hidan. Of course, she wouldn't omit such an occasion; he was a hot guy, she was a pretty girl. _You know the drill_ , I thought glumly.

 _Wait, did I just call Hidan hot?_

Abashed by my own thoughts, I swiftly promised myself to ignore that fact and act as if nothing ever happened. My words would have been completely normal if I wasn't gay. It's just the perspective that made them sound weird. I wasn't interested in anyone, right? _Right?_

I peered at the picture once again. They were certainly having a great time. Good for them, I thought morosely. I shut down my laptop, finished the yoghurt and started painting. I wasn't sure what made me annoyed, but I could feel my irritation was rising in me; I couldn't help it. Luckily, art was always the best escape from the reality.

I only hoped that my anger wasn't caused by Hidan; that it wasn't some kind of pathetic jealousy; _how could I be jealous of something I have never had?_

Falling asleep a few hours later, I wished to be someone else more than at any point in the last few years.

* * *

*Adrian Dr Martens – have a look at the collection here / from the author: the idea for my project was literally taken from my own experience: I did a similar project for one of my units at the University

**Winchester - here


	9. Hurricaine

The next day, just before the first class, I spotted Hidan and Maria chatting on a side. Her pink hair was worn in a bun but her makeup seemed messy comparing to her usual appearance. I thought that they had to, indeed, spend quite a lot of time yesterday. I sighed, trying to avoid facing them together. As the bell rang, I quickly walked into the classroom and calmly waited for Hidan. Once he came and sat down in the chair next to me, I sensed the familiar scent of jasmine; for some reason, he always smelled like jasmine. Although the smell was pleasant, it seemed to contrast with the man's character and look.

"What stopped you yesterday?" The question that I have been preparing myself for since yesterday has finally been said.

"I didn't feel too well," I replied instantly, slowly opening my notebook and writing down the date. "I'm sorry, really" I added, looking up and observing Hidan rolling his eyes with irritation.

"You've missed out a lot," he stated playfully; surprisingly, there was no track of anger in his voice. The only characteristic of his voice that I could ascribe to the albino was that cold, consistent indifference.

"I'm sure I did," I agreed, trying not to sound unduly miserable. "You and Maria, eh?" I teased with an unwieldy twinge of jealousy.

"No, not at all, actually," Hidan huffed as if I offended him. "I'm just meeting people. I don't like getting into complicated situations, you know? And relationships are always fucking complicated," he added bitterly, crossing his arms.

"I see," I hemmed. "Anyway, sorry."

"I told you something about your 'sorry-ing'", Hidan whined, and his facial expression swiftly shifted from angry to neutral again. "Whatever. Doesn't matter, yeah?"

I nodded, looking down. I truly wished I had a similar attitude but… _It doesn't matter, does it?_

Throughout the next few weeks, I and Hidan definitely became closer. I couldn't quite comprehend the fact how it actually happened, considering my anxiety and Hidan's attitude towards other people. Sometimes I thought that his impartial acceptance of things happening around him seemed like an agreement to being left alone at some point of his life. I was jealous of that ability because, from my own experience, people were appearing, people were leaving – nothing and no one was eternal; all in all, lack of expectations could lead to the lack of disappointment. That was how I was justifying his attitude because, for the first time in ages, he still seemed to be the only person who accepted me and the way I was.

Although Hidan was still hanging out with Maria, Brandon and other people from my class, it appeared to me that he was spending with me most of his free time. I was nothing but grateful; in fact, it made me feel safer, and the explicit Hidan's indifference stopped me from feeling guilty all the time. As we were usually meeting in te city or at his place, I started spending less time at home. Obviously, I have never offered him coming to my house, and he has never insisted on finding out where or how I lived. I wasn't sure how long that was going to last, but I decided to appreciate the favourable circumstances as long as I possibly could.

Of course, a few weeks were not enough for two people to become best friends, but there was a feeling escalating in my mind; a sense of human warmth, diffident fractions of trust. Although I have never thought it would happen, I started to believe in Hidan as someone who could respect and even like me. I felt like a child in the fog of confusion and inexperienced emotions, but I tried my best to make my way through this. In the end, maybe there was something positive waiting to happen in my life.

Brandon, Kyle and Hayden still treated me like shit; they were usually _meeting_ me once a week, and this has not changed. My father has not changed, either, but as long as I could still walk and hide all the evidence of violence, I aimed to continue to pretend that everything was just fine. As much as I placed hope in Hidan as my friend, I would never expect from anyone to spend time with such a human failure, and as much as I hated myself for lying about my life, I could not possibly tell Hidan the truth.

 _I wished it wasn't just me who knew that._

"What are you think you're doing, hm?" Brandon hissed, clutching my face. His fingernails were painfully sinking into my pale cheek.

"What do you want?" Even though I tried to control myself, I never could stop quivering. Both anxiety and the fear of pain were things that I wasn't able to get used to; sometimes, I thought that was the only proof for that I was still sane.

"You know what I mean, bitch," Brandon spat. "You think we won't get to you if you stick to _the new guy_ , huh?" He threw me on the ground and kicked in the stomach. "Do you think that he's going to protect you because he doesn't know what a hoe you are?" Do you?"

Unable to brace myself to speak up, I only shook my head, but Brandon seemed not to notice this. "I'm gonna make it clear," he growled. "No". Another kick. "Fucking." And another. "Way." I screamed in pain as I could feel my arm twisting at an unnatural angle.

"So you'll listen to me carefully," he continued. "Stop fucking jumping all around him like a bitch. You know what you are. He is not going to help you. As soon as he finds out who you are, he'll fucking kill you", he drawled. "Stay away from him, or I'll tell him… or _show him_. Everything," he grinned, crinkling his nose.

"Who knows, maybe he'll fucking join us, huh?" Kyle laughed.

My blood froze when I heard those words. _No, he couldn't. He just possibly could not_ …

"Are we clear?" Brandon asked. I nodded feebly.

Kyle bent forward and punched me in the stomach.

"He asked you a fucking question!"

"Fine," I replied, trying not to close my eyes. A strange feeling of sleepiness started to creep in and taking control over my mind. I only wondered how much longer I could live like that, if that kind of desperate existence could be labelled as life at all.

 _Here we go again._

And sometimes I couldn't find any motivation at all; any motivation to pretend, to survive, to life. Bruises on bruises, closed eyes, blood in the mouth, sleep wandering and teasing my mind with a fake promise of dreams.

 _Here-_

 _No._

I didn't go to school the next day. Although I didn't want to miss any classes to avoid giving my father another excuse to beat me, I simply wasn't able to get up. I woke up early, feeling nauseous, and when I tried to stand up, I reeled over and collapsed on the bed. I was a complete mess. I lied down again and wrapped myself in the duvet, deciding to go back to sleep. I was aware of that if I was to continue living like this, I wouldn't live long enough to feel disadvantaged because of my performance at school anyway.

Later on that day, I got a text from Hidan.

 _Where are you?_

I rolled my eyes and hesitated.

 _I'm sick._

I couldn't think of a better excuse, or ponder on whether he would ask me some troublesome questions. In the end, I was, apparently, going to stop hanging out with him, and even though I could not quite comprehend how to deal with the situation I got myself into, I couldn't take a break from living - ignoring messages wasn't an acceptable solution, either.

Of course, once I sent the text, Hidan asked me what was going on and offered to come over to see me after school. I swiftly declined - _for his own good_. I changed the topic and asked what he was up to.

 _Nothing. I'm rooting in this shithole, and you're just chilling at home_ _._

I could imagine the frown on his forehead and couldn't help but smile. I already got used to his sense of humour which was a real challenge to me, mostly because I was used to hearing brutally direct assumptions but Hidan was, in fact, the first person who used them as a form of a joke and not a real slander.

It was already early afternoon, and that meant that I was, luckily, alone in our house. My father had a typical full-time job, hence I always knew when he could not possibly see me; I assumed it saved me quite a lot of pain. I tried to stand up again and, luckily, I felt a little bit stronger. I put on an old t-shirt and sweatpants and decided to eat something before going back to sleep. Once I made a simple toast and a cup of coffee, I carefully took the cup and small plate and returned to my room. Passing by a small mirror in the corridor, I glimpsed at my own reflection; I did look terrible; since I wasn't going to see anyone, I didn't bother to put any makeup. A few purple remarks under my left eye and swollen chin reminded me of the yesterday's encounter. I only hoped the swelling would go down soon as, unfortunately, another layer of makeup couldn't make it any less visible.

When my father returned from work in the evening, I was peacefully reading a textbook in my room. I also decided to cover up my bruises in case my father wanted to see me; I was well aware of that if he spotted any new signs of abuse on my body, he would, traditionally, beat the crap out of me just for letting anyone else do that to me. _In theory_ , I thought, _I should be safe for that evening_ ; the only thing I was worried about was the possibility that my teacher could contact him in regards to my unexplained absence at school.

I strained my ears trying to determine if my father was coming upstairs. As I only heard clanging dishes and beeping of the microwave, it seemed that he wasn't particularly angry. I smiled slightly to myself and closed the book; I only opened it in case my father would start talking about my mediocre grades.

As for the household of Iwaga, the whole day was quite peaceful. Right before going back to bed, I was working on a new painting and had my headphones on. I was listening to a Norwegian alternative band as loud music always helped me to distance myself from the rest of the world; a mental escape from the quiet house of violence was one of the few things that could bring me comfort.

"Deidara!"

A sudden jab in my arm almost gave me a heart attack. I jumped, nearly throwing my set of paints right on my duvet. I turned around to see... Hidan. My eyes widened, flickering with fear. I put the headphones away and whispered, "Hidan, what… what are you doing here?" I hoped that my father wouldn't hear us; otherwise, I knew I was going to absolutely lose it.

"You said you were sick… I thought it would be good to come over and see how you feel. Your father didn't seem to mind... Well, he let me in." Hidan shrugged his arms, peering at me. His gaze stopped on my arms. The albino frowned and asked, "What the fuck is this?"

"What?" I tried to play dumb.

"This." He pointed on my bruises, pressing his lips together. I shut my eyes, trying not to curse.

"Nothing. I fell", I murmured automatically.

"From a fucking precipice? Come on, who the fuck was that?" Hidan snarled as his pale face reddened. He grabbed my hand and pulled me over. "Is this why you weren't at school today?"

"No… I mean… Yes, I…" I was lost in words. I didn't know what to do – should I tell him everything? _No way_.

Hidan probably realised how confused I was and added more gently, "Hey, easy, yeah? Just tell me what's going on." As if he wanted to prove me that he was not going to behave too violently, he sat on my bed with crossed arms. I eyed him up, thanking myself for doing my makeup earlier. I couldn't possibly imagine how he would react to those injuries.

"I got hurt…" I started.

"That's what I fucking see. What I'm asking is who the fuck…" Hidan uncontrolled outrage was not much of a help.

"Can you be quieter, please? I don't want my father to go nuts," I asked. "Can we go out for a bit?" I proposed, clearing up my mind.

As Hidan quietly agreed, still giving me his "you-will-not-escape-this" glare, I quickly put on my jacket and grabbed my keys. I murmured a polite "I'll be back soon" to my father, who he glowered at us from the living room, and opened the front door.

"What the fuck is going on then?" Hidan inquired once we were outside.

"Can we just sit down somewhere?" I was well aware of my poor condition; as much as I wanted to hide it, my walk was a staggering limp, and this did not escape the albino's attention. Hidan only nodded. I could see he wasn't trying to hide his annoyance but I decided to stubbornly remain quiet long enough to decide what to do.

We wandered down the road and sat dawn on the stairs of the St Damien's Walk Theatre; an ancient, proud venue which was usually quite unattended. The theatre lost its old popularity due to the cuts made by the city's mayor, proving that nothing in the word was eternal – even the glory of art. I wondered how eternal should my lies be or how long I could pretend that nothing was happening, and sometimes I was feeling just simply tired of my own excuses. I assume it wouldn't be happening if I didn't like Hidan. He was the first person in years who treated me as a friend, and who let me treat him as one, even if sometimes I pondered on the real nature of my feelings. Emotions are art themselves – they change, evaluate, progress, refresh. That was why I started to question nothing else than not only Hidan's influence on my existence but also the nature of my true wishes and hopes. He was, indeed, my friend. My best friend. I realised it would be way too simple if it ended that way – emotions don't end, feelings don't give up, and I needed to face them regardless of my will.

"So?" Hidan rushed me, bringing me back to reality.

"Listen… It's my father," I confessed after a few seconds of awkwardly nervous silence. Before Hidan had a chance to interrupt me, I continued, "We've never really got along. He has… anger issues and he doesn't like the way I live, the way I look, think…" I spoke apprehensively. I couldn't believe that I actually took the shot. "It's just that. I didn't want you to worry."

I couldn't tell the albino anything about Brandon or Kyle; I knew that as much as Hidan could already be disgusted with me, the remaining pieces of truth were not meant to be possibly understood. Full of fear, I awaited Hidan's reaction. To my surprise, he remained silent for a few extremely long seconds.

"I mean… I'm sorry for not telling you this. If you're upset, I get it. I mean, I know I probably deserve it… I'm not a perfect son, more of a stupid faggot who's being pushed around by others, right? You don't have to say anything if you don't want to hang out with me again, I get it, okay?" I added nervously, lost in my own words.

Hidan's expression hardened; the albino, previously motionless and seemingly cogitative, raised his hand and turned his head so his face was facing mine.

"You… Shit, why didn't you tell me earlier?" He started, and I could feel the rising rage in his voice. "And what the fuck made you think it's your fault? Man, you should have… Fuck," he shouted, standing up. "When has he started…"

"When I was a kid," I murmured, looking away. After all, I had nothing to lose, so I continued, "It got worse after my mother's death, though. It's not like I didn't try to be better, I…" I unconsciously started trying to justify myself. Because I did try, didn't I? I've always wanted to be _loved_.

"So that's why you've never wanted me to come over," Hidan said more to himself than to me. "Fuck, man…"

"He doesn't beat me every day," I mumbled, wondering if I already became the type of a person who would try to protect the abuser.

"That's why you're still fucking alive!" the albino snarled. "No way you're coming back to that fucked up psycho", he proclaimed. I glanced at him in disbelief.

"So… You're not mad at me?" I asked, blinking.

"Are _you_ fucking mad? What for?" Hidan seemed puzzled. "It's not your fault. But you're not coming back there. You can sleep at my place, I mean… fuck. This is so fucked up," he boasted. "You should have told me earlier."

I remained silent, analysing his words. His reaction was a complete opposite to what I had expected. I couldn't comprehend why he didn't turn against me, or at least just walk off. After all, it was my fault. I grew up believing it was all my fault – I even agreed to hate myself for such imperfection.

And then - I felt as if I lost myself once again.

"Deidara?" The albino reminded me of his existence, and my face flushed.

"I just don't understand, okay? You're acting as if there was nothing wrong with me, and you know it's not true. You don't have to pretend or try to be nice," I insisted blatantly.

Hidan's forehead creased. "There is nothing wrong with you, man. I don't know if your father fucked up your brain or not but it's not your fault. There's never been anything wrong with you. It is not fucking normal to beat up your own child," he exclaimed. "Also, now - do you want to stay at my house?"

I shook my head. "No, I can't. I mean, I've got a house. Oh god, that's not what… And... he won't beat me tonight. I'll be just fine. Just don't tell anyone about it, please." I pleaded. "And I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" I added quickly as if I wanted to get rid of the inconvenient topic as soon as possible.

The albino sighed. "You know that I am going to keep asking you questions. And this all this fucking crap is not normal. But you can always stay at my place, you understand?" I nodded, smiling slightly. "Also, one more thing, and I don't fucking care how this is going to happen, but there's no way I'm gonna let you be beaten up again," Hidan stated calmly, and I thought that his facial expression seemed to emphasise that he didn't want to hear any excuses.

"Hidan, there's one more thing," I hesitated. "He… I mean, we can't spend too much time together at school," I started, ignoring the albino's snort. "He doesn't want his son to be… I mean… He just… He thinks that if I can possibly have a friend, then that's just because I'm a whore or something," I risked. I knew that it was actually a lie, but I decided to try. If I had to keep the school abuse a secret, I had to give it a shot. "It's just at school," I added quickly as Hidan looked as if he was going to kill somebody with his bare hands.

"This fucker is just…"

"Please," I said quietly. "Just for now."

"The fuck… This is all too much, okay? I don't even know what to say now, it's just..." He looked at me. "Yeah, okay."

I did feel horrible for being such a lying scum; I didn't want to lie to him, but I finally found a way of going around Brandon's threat. Now, as Hidan knew about my father, and understood the situation, he would be careful and we could stay in touch despite Brandon's warning. Although I despised lying to Hidan, it was enough that he found out about my father, and even though he showed the level of understanding that I had never expected, telling him about rape, about all those things Brandon and his friends were doing to me… I could not possibly do this.

"Thank you. It means a lot, really."

"That's fine. Now we're both in this, and I swear things are not staying the same," Hidan declared malevolently.

 _They are not._

 _We are not._

For some reason, I felt numb. I wasn't certain if I should be happy, annoyed or mad at myself. Being aware of that Hidan knows only half of the truth didn't let me be content. Although I was more than grateful towards Hidan, there was still way too much to unravel, and I did not even wish to ponder on how mad Hidan would be if he found out that I had lied to him. At that point, I was on the edge; although my situation seemingly improved, the improvement was built on secrets and silence, and I knew it was all my fault.

As Hidan walked me home, I looked at his face. _He doesn't deserve this_ , I thought as I said goodbye and closed the door.

That night, I had to take an extra pill to quiet down the hurricane of thoughts that arose in my head; and yet, the hurricane heralded a catastrophe waiting to happen.

And yesterday _…_ yesterday was a million years ago.

 _In a labyrinth of lies, try not to lie to yourself._


	10. Truth in the mirror

The next day, the very first thing I saw once I turned off the alarm was a text from Hidan.

 _You still coming?_

I cracked a smile and stood up. I was slightly dizzy because of the sleeping pills so I decided to give myself a few additional minutes and change my clothes first; I went for black skinny jeans and a burgundy long sleeve shirt. I tied my long blonde hair up and spent another quarter doing my makeup when my phone buzzed. I glimpsed on the screen and saw another text.

 _Are you even alive?_

I perked up and typed a quick, " _yeah, coming_."

Luckily, I didn't live far away from school, hence I wasn't dependent on the public transport. Still, I often found myself in a situation where I had to run to arrive at school on time; my time management was certainly far from ideal. However, I had to admit that I was trying my best to avoid any miscalculations; I absolutely loathed turning up late either because of that I found showing up for a class intimidating or because I never want anyone to wait for me.

Fortunately, on that day, I showed up in class just on time; I briefly scanned my classmates entering the classroom; my sight stopped on Hidan, who was already sat in his chair.

"Lost already, blondie?" A derisive voice reached me from behind. I shuddered as I recognised Brandon. He patted me on the back and bypassed me to join his friends. I made an effort to ignore it and joined Hidan. We exchanged a brief 'Hi' as the teacher started the class… and that was pretty much all we have said to each other on that day. It appeared that Hidan took what I had said earlier quite seriously, which was a positive yet painful fact. I watched him chatting and laughing with other people, and I could already feel some sort of… jealously? In the end, it all came back to as it was in the beginning; I was alone, constantly making up new excuses and mastering the art of lying.

 _Nothing ever changes_.

I was furious at myself; _how could I possibly assume that it would work out?_ It was pathetic. Pathetic and hilarious. It looked stupid, it was stupid, and it surely made me look like a goddamn fool. I did realise that what Brandon demanded was never possible; I could swear that he knew that from the very beginning. Well, he probably only wanted to cherish my humiliation once again.

After school, I braced myself and called Brandon. He simpered and welcomed me with a falsely jovial tone, "You just can't live without me, can you, blondie?"

"Stop it," I muttered. "Listen, what do you want?" I asked angrily. I was aware of that I was pushing the boundaries, but I couldn't worry about it at that time.

"Oh, you do know what I want… most of the time," Brandon sniggered. "Any issues with that?" He questioned, more interested in his mates' reaction than me.

"What do you want from Hidan?" I continued. "Isn't what you've been doing to me for all these years fucking _enough_? Why can't you just leave me alone?" My voice, full of annoyance and some sort of fearful desperation, cracked as Brandon burst into laughter.

"You'll never learn, will you?" He smirked, glowering at me. "You wish you have never said that, bitch," he added.

Bewildered, I felt panic rising in me. Maybe he was right; maybe I would never learn. However, maybe it has never been possible in the first place? Living as a victim of physical and verbal abuse for years could possibly alter my way of perceiving the world, of course – but how was I supposed to know what was normal? What I had believed in as a small kid has been gone for more than a decade; I knew there was no way of getting it back.

"I thought I made myself clear last time… Well, didn't work out, did it? Good then, we'll have it your way. You'll wish you've never said a word, bitch." Brandon eyed his friends and turned around, walking away.

I was confused. I wasn't certain if I had just opted for a capital punishment or not, but if Brandon wanted to scare me, he did succeed. Now, I just have to wait, I thought bleakly. What I could expect was Hidan joining Brandon and mocking me till the rest of my days in the sixth form. What I did not predict – I didn't wish to know just yet.

My phone buzzed. Hidan.

 _Want to meet up today?_

 _When?_ I texted back without hesitation.

A reply came just a few seconds later.

 _Now?_

 _I haven't been home yet._

 _You can leave stuff at my place._

 _Coming._

I didn't know if I was being stupid, reckless or just stubborn, but if I was about to lose Hidan forever, I wanted to make the most of our friendship while I could.

Thirty minutes ago, I met Hidan in his flat. I eyed the albino; he was wearing a simple black t-shirt, skinny black pants and a leather jacket. Damn, I wasn't surprised that he was popular among girls.

"Hey, wanna come in first?" Hidan asked.

"Yeah, sure," I answered apathetically.

I threw my bag on the sofa and sat down. I still felt anxious after the earlier encounter but I believed I was experienced enough to hide it. Besides, after all, I did have a safe excuse – my father. It was nearly laughable: covering one abuse with another.

"Are you okay?" The albino inquired.

"What? Um, yeah, sure."

"It was so fucking weird, at school, you know," Hidan started casually, but I could see his annoyance growing. It wasn't the cursing - obviously, Hidan did have the habit of swearing a lot so it never actually indicated annoyance. The poisonous innuendo of pure irritation were his oddly cold yet rambling eyes.

"I know," I admitted. "And I thought this through now. I mean, it's just pointless. It was stupid of me to think that this would help anything. Sometimes I'm just really fucking stupid, you know?"

Hidan examined me carefully, as if he was wondering what the hell was going on in my mind. "Are you sure? I mean... I can't quite catch up with you, man. You were quite serious about it yesterday," he pointed out plainly, unknowingly doubling my anxiety. "I mean, it's not like I wouldn't like that but all that stuff going on with your father… I know I have no fucking idea how it is like, so I'm not gonna fucking judge," he raised his hands.

"Thanks, but I'm sure," I claimed. "I... I just overreacted. Anxiety strikes in," I laughed bitterly, wondering whether it would be possible for me to lose myself between half-lies and partial facts. "I was sure you would think I'm a fucking weirdo or something. It's not like everyone gets beaten up by their parents, right?" I noticed, avoiding Hidan's gaze.

 _Liar_.

"Hey, listen," he leant forward. "No, not everyone. You know why? Because not everyone's parents are fucking psychos," he gritted with anger. "I swear, you should… man, I don't even know. If you report this, you're gonna go to an orphanage or something, huh?"

"There's no way I'm telling anyone else about it," I stated firmly. The albino glanced at me, surprised with the confidence in my voice. "No one else can know about it," I repeated. That was something that I have learnt through all the years; what my father has learnt me: _no one could know_. After so many years, I didn't even try to question that.

"It's not fucking fair, you know..."

I raised my head and looked at him. "What is unfair?"

"This. First of all, you're telling me about this, but then you don't want me to do anything. You don't want any help, any support, even a fucking advice. It's a bit like telling someone that you're going to commit suicide and expect that they would just nod, smile and let you die. It's not fair, Deidara."

I stared at him, unsure how to respond. Did I really have an answer to this? As much as it hurt, he was right and I knew about that even though I tried my best to ignore it. He was right. I was wrong.

 _As always, right?_

"I'm sorry," I said. _Pointlessly, once again._ "You're right. I know you are. I shouldn't bother you, I'm sorry," I mumbled, looking down to avoid Hidan's look.

"Fuck, you still don't get it... Nevermind," Hidan growled. I could hear anger in his voice but I couldn't do anything. _It was never going to get better, was it?_ "I just wish you could trust me more. I really wish you could."

"I'm so sorry," I repeated trying to sound neutral; only that could stop me from crying.

"Don't be," he replied bluntly. "Just remember that you don't have to come back home if you don't want to. You can stay here anytime. Even though I don't agree with what you're doing, you know I don't hate you. I just... Nevermind. What I mean is that you can stay here any time you want. I mean it. "

 _And he actually did._

* * *

Thank you for reading.

*comes back from /the dead/ last year at uni*

I was about to have an early night tonight but here we are, I realised that it's been a while since the last chapter.

Out of topic, I came across an 11-year-old kid who replied to my "What's your hobby?" with "I like blowing things up."

Deidara would approve.

As always, I'll be grateful for your opinion.


	11. Universe trembling

Over the next couple of weeks, we spent together most of our free time. For some reason, it appeared that my father did not mind me spending time with Hidan; if he did know who I was ging out with, I supposed that he simply assumed that I finally found a friend and, although I surely haven't 'maned up' in his eyes, I wasn't getting on his nerves as much as I used to. Hence, I considered myself quite lucky, especially that it appeared that Brandon hasn't told Hidan anything yet. Of course, I _did_ feel Brandon's gaze on my back at school, and _no_ , I I was not sure why he hasn't said a word, but there was nothing I could do about it; about it or the two times, when he wanted me to wait for him after school, and I knew that was a request that simply needed to be fulfilled. Only then, I could pretend that everything was starting to be normal _again_ , with a fake smile, a new layer of makeup and a long sleeve shirt. Apart from that, occasional anxiety and probably only one major panic attack, I was just _fine_ – waiting for the catastrophe to happen.

In the meantime, I began the process of redefining the meaning of trust. After spending a few another nights at Hidan's place, I slowly started distinguishing the daily routine and the daily lethargy. The difference between coming home and coming at Hidan's place planted a new sensation, similar to awareness of the reality, in my mind. Although I haven't been beaten up in a few days, the usual life under the threat had to accept a new, weirdly calm, state of mind which occurred when I was with Hidan.

The only thing that concerned me about the albino was his undeniably considerable impact on me and my feelings. Strangely, I quickly accepted him as my friend – my only friend and, therefore, assumingly the best friend I have ever had. The only issue was that I wasn't good at _feeling_. Sometimes, when I looked at him, I wondered who he actually was: was he a friend, my private counsellor?A _partner_? I felt insecure about the unknown; my own lack of understanding of human relationships filled me with both irritation and shame. After all, though, what should I expect?

One Friday, Hidan insisted on meeting up with some people from our class. He was aware of that we didn't get along but I did realise that he couldn't always be just with me; especially on a Friday night. Besides, I already recognised this as one of his characteristics: the confidence. He always wanted to have an influence on people and wasn't afraid to say what he believed in. Therefore, he thought that the vision of me going out with his friends was a way to prove to them I was worth _something_. As much as I respected that, I still found that unnecessary. On the other hand, I didn't want to say no. Hidan was well aware of my social discomfort and I could only suppose it would be the best for me to overcome it, especially that once he started to brag about a pub where he already got to know one of the bouncers and would surely convince him to let the very not-18-year-old me in, I knew there was no point in trying to discourage him from going there. Sometimes I envied him the indifference and obliviousness, another time I would just admit that it wouldn't need much to be so oblivious - one would only need not to be me to cherish it.

As we met Jordan, Norbert, Maria and Bryony, I knew I needed more than a pint to survive. I glimpsed at the group, unwittingly comparing myself to them. Both the girls' outfit consisted of a crop top, high-waisted jeans and a black choker and I thought they couldn't add anything else to that self-proclaimed _basic bitch_ look. Maria looked better, though, as she had, _as always_ , flowers in her bubblegum hair and makeup that complimented her pale carnation. Bryony seemed more desperate, clearly believing that the more makeup, the better, even if that meant having a brown and golden mask instead of _skin_. Jordan and Norbert were, indeed, just typical lads – brunets, dressed in jeans and immortal Ralph Lauren t-shirts. Jordan, although younger than Norbert, always seemed to be the older one; he was taller and more muscular than his friend. Norbert was almost as skinny as me and had a well-groomed beard. I, on the other hand, looked like from a different story, in black skinny trousers, burgundy creepers, black long sleeve shirt and, alike Hidan, a leather jacket. My hair was tied up, makeup done; nothing new in that matter. I was wondering if other people could feel my uneasiness; as I only managed to mumble an awkward "Hi" before Hidan started joking around, I took Hidan's tendency to chatting with gratitude. I quietly followed him as we head to the bar, and peered at him once he was uninhibitedly making some innuendos about drinking games, _somewhere, sometime, somehow_.

As he was already 18, he ordered drinks for me and Bryony as we were the only ones who still were officially only juveniles. I ordered Jack Daniels with diet coke, while Hidan casually chose vodka with energy drink. The girls went for some fancy cocktails, and both Jordan and Norbert opted for cider. As we sat down, Hidan and Maria were already laughing. She was asking Hidan about German girls and I couldn't help but smirk, wondering what she would do to find a way to his bed.

My participation in the meeting was restricted to desultory responses to most noncommittal topics where I wasn't the one to do the talking. After my third drink, I actually felt much more positive about the whole meeting being the one who could be a comfortable listener, socialising in his own introvert way. No one seemed to mind and the only thing I was always truly grateful for was the inability of other people to read in my mind as that was the only place where I was truly free, where I could say whatever I wanted.

After less than a couple of hour and three more cocktails, Maria and Bryony were certainly drunk. That actually matched what I heard about them – they just liked getting drunk and go crazy in an attractive companionship. I peered at Hidan, who certainly had fun looking at them. To be honest, I was quite surprised that he didn't look wasted himself; he and Jordan already went for Jagerbombs and Jordan already seemed to regret that. I was sipping a snake bite*, subtly turning into the opposite to Maria and Bryony. Drunk, I was usually quiet and either numb or emotional, depending on the people around me.

Around midnight, Hidan called the taxi for Maria and Bryony; although they insisted they could walk home or, more willingly, follow Hidan, to my relief, the albino didn't think it was a good idea. I couldn't hide my satisfaction when I faced Maria's hazy eyes.

"You're okay?" Hidan murmured, suddenly looking down on me. I nodded, hoping I didn't seem too drunk. That was the weird habit of mine: being overly afraid to look drunk, or just even more vulnerable than I actually was.

"Are you going to Liquid?" Asked Jordan.

"Nah, mate… Are we?" Hidan peered at me inquiringly. I shook my head firmly; going to a club was on the long list of things I absolutely hated.

"Right then, I think we're going there, maybe I'll get lucky tonight." Norbert winked, turning to Jordan.

"Good luck then," Hidan chuckled.

"Was nice seeing you," exclaimed Jordan. "…aaaand you, flower," the brunet added enthusiastically, waving at me with a wide smile.

I muffled a giggle and cleared my throat. "You too, hm." I looked as they were going away, slowly disappearing in the dense beauty of the late autumn night.

"They're fucking mad," Hidan declared, still laughing. "I'll leave it to them. Coming at my place, yeah?"

I nodded, following the albino like a ghost. I knew I was more than tipsy and he had to know but – oh well, it wasn't the first time he saw me drunk so I didn't really care.

The night was beautiful; sweet-smelling cold darkness, sky freckled with stars. Although it was still the beginning of November, winter was in the air. The warmth of my body fuelled by alcohol met the cold breath of wind, and it didn't take much time till I started shivering. Luckily, Hidan's home wasn't too far away.

Hidan must have noticed that I was trembling. "Are you cold?" He asked.

"Nah, I'm fine," I mumbled, for some reason hoping that he would feel I was bluffing.

"Nah, you're cold," Hidan chuckled, giving me a firm hug.

"Hidan," I whined, yet deciding not to reject the unexpected source of warmth.

Once we got home, Hidan went straight to the kitchen.

"What do you want?", he shouted while I sat down on the sofa in the living room.

 _So, the night is not going to end just now,_ I thought with a smile. Being awake in the middle of the night tended to make me anxious as it was usually an effect of insomnia. Only spending time around Hidan started slowly learning me a different way of perceiving certain occurrences. I never took it for granted.

Two hours later, still awake, I felt unbearably emotional. The soft side of drunk me made its presence felt. I hardly heard Hidan discussing his history with his ex; I was in my own world. I was recalling different events from my life; the time when my mother died, the night when my father hit me with a bottle because a kid stole my pencil case in primary school. The time when my stomach hurt so much I didn't sleep all night because I was afraid that I would never wake up. The time when Brandon raped me for the first time, and the time when he recorded all of this, casually mentioning that he will publish it online if I say a word.

I knew I shouldn't have; I knew it didn't matter if I was thinking about it or not, I knew all of that. It didn't matter. _I_ didn't matter, did I?

Maybe that was why, deep down, I didn't like to drink.

I should have known better, I thought, trying to fight off a panic attack slowly taking control over the scraps of my rational thinking.

"Deidara, are you okay?", Hidan's voice reminded me of the albino's presence.

"What? Um, yeah…" I stammered hesitantly.

"Are you still cold?" The albino glanced at my long sleeves.

"Wh… what? No, no, it's really warm in here," I replied swiftly, jumping away in a vehement manner.

"So why are you always wearing long sleeves? Man, I want to see you in summer. I can see that now, actually: 30 degrees, drought, and there you are, in a jacket and hands in your pockets." His comment made me wonder – _what excuse would I come up with in summer_? I've never had anyone to explain myself to before. _Pathetic._

"Because people would _see_ me," I answered ironically, weirdly angered.

"What do you mean?"

"People would see what I look like," I said. My anxiety was combining with frustration. For some reason, I didn't feel numb anymore; I was enraged. I was sad. I was _tired_. "And this is not something everyone can see."

Without thinking, I stood up and took off my shirt, exposing my pale chest speckled with bruises, scratches, wounds. I stood like this for a few long moments, not saying a word. I wasn't looking at Hidan, I wasn't looking at the ceiling, I wasn't looking _anywhere_. For once, I felt like someone had to look at me, the truest one anyone could get. I could hear my own breath, and I felt tears in my eyes. I tried my best to hold them back, trying not to drown in the silence around me.

After a while, or maybe an _eternity_ , I heard Hidan's voice, weirdly husky, bewildered, "What the hells is this, Deidara? What the…"

"No, it's not my father. Not _just_ him," I interrupted him ironically, and that was the end of me. I broke down, falling on the sofa.

"It was never just him."

Never.

Hands trembling, universe spinning. I want to get out, get out, t. Hands spinning, universe trembling; t.

 _But, unfortunately, I do know you won't understand._

* * *

*in the UK, snake bite is a mixture of lager and blackcurrant cordial. It's quite a killer combination that usually will make you drunk (very) quickly.

* * *

Thank you for reading.

/We're getting somewhere. I am at the point where nearly all the remaining chapters are already written and I can't believe it as much as Deidara doesn't buy your makeup./


	12. Changing shapes

It wasn't the morning sunshine that woke me up. When I finally opened my eyes, the surroundings seemed moodily grey. My eyes took the darkness with gratitude and I let myself sink in the peaceful silence that filled the apartment. The only noises that I could detect were a muffled beeping of an ambulance and the drops of rain hitting the window.

From what I could remember, I spent the rest of the night weeping pathetically in Hidan's arms. Although I wish I hadn't remembered that, I knew I just broke down into pieces and couldn't quite control myself. Eventually, I told him everything - well, everything that mattered; everything I could find words for. I think I have realised that there was no point in hiding anything anymore; as long as we were friends, there was no way of escaping awkward questions, and I couldn't lie forever. Of course, I did prefer to lie but it proved to make my life only more difficult.

Yet, I certainly did not enjoy a single second of being aware of what I had done. There was a thin line between embarrassment and wishing to be dead.

 _No,_ Hidan didn't reject me. _No_ , he didn't interrupt. _Yes_ , he let me speak. _Yes_ , he did get mad. _Yes_ , he did shout. _Yes_ , he did want to kill everyone, and if killing was a real option, I would do nothing but join him on the spree. One could then question my own shame but the true reason for my own regrets was nothing else than my own hatred towards myself and there was nothing that could help it; loathing combined with humiliation was a destructive blend which couldn't just disappear. That is why I took Hidan's absence in the living room with gratitude. After some time, I saw his shade in the hallway but I realised he didn't know I was already awake and went to the bathroom. Fortunately, this gave me some time to get myself together.

To my relief, I remembered to put my goddamn shirt on after my pathetic show-off. I looked around and spotted my phone next to an almost empty bottle of vodka. I grabbed it and gladly noticed I didn't have any messages or unanswered calls. In fact, thanks to my father, checking my phone was always making me overly stressed; I always worried that he would text me saying that I had to go back home as soon as possible which could mean only one thing: he was pissed and couldn't even wait to beat me up.

I wasn't sure how to behave; I was afraid to face Hidan and his sober reaction to what he had heard and seen. I went to the kitchen and started making coffee in order to preoccupy my thoughts with something meaningless for a few minutes.

I filled two cups with black, strong coffee. I wasn't sure how long Hidan has been awake but it was more of a courtesy rather than an actual need – all in all, there I was, making him coffee in his own flat. I took both the cups to the living room. I heard the bathroom door opening; I turned around and, a few moments later, Hidan showed up.

"You're awake, finally," he said. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, thanks," I mumbled. "You?"

"Yeah… I think I woke up just minutes before you, huh," the albino observed. Hidan shifted his gaze to the still steaming coffee. "Thanks."

 _Okay, this is awkward_ , I thought. There was more to be said than I could possibly express, and yet, I was there, trying to think of something else to remark about the as pure as the poor cup of coffee.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," I blurted out finally. "I shouldn't have done any of that," I stated apologetically, studying my left hand to avoid meeting Hidan's eyes. "It wasn't fair to-"

"Wait, what?" Hidan choked. "What are you apologising for again?" I could feel escalating annoyance in his voice. " _Do. Not_ ," he stated loudly, then sighed. "We had this discussion already, right? Don't say sorry for every single thing you do in your life or I'll go mental. I'm pretty sure you've made up for all the missing apologies in my past and future life already." The albino rolled his eyes and continued, "Now, listen - first of all, I just wish you have told me earlier about all of this, alright? I'm shit at comforting people but I'm not as dumb as a fucking cabbage, you don't have to introduce me to your life in stages. Secondly, I just can't fucking believe I was just hanging out with that vermin while they then-", he paused. I looked up and met his gaze. Once I miraculously survived the eye contact, it was my turn to break the silence.

"To be fair, I think I'd have never told you any of that if I hadn't been drunk," I admitted honestly. "But I'm glad I was drunk, then," I added quieter, cracking a subtle smile, not sure if I actually believed my own words. "But... there's nothing more I could possibly hide," I declared, realising that it wasn't just another lie I used to repeat.

"So I could actually say I know a Deidara now," Hidan smirked.

"You do."

"But you know what I will have to do then," the albino said, and no, I didn't have a clue. There was still a part of me that expected a response no different than "throw you the fuck out of my place", standing next to that piece of another version of Deidara who was just scared of every existing possible answer to that question. _Not helpful_. "They will fucking pay," Hidan snarled, clenching his fists. "They will wish they never lived, I fucking swear. I know we talked about it… But are you sure you don't want to go to the police? I mean, I'm not saying now, but, man, they will go to a fucking jail if you go with this to the police and get yourself a state lawyer."

I shook my head promptly, almost amazed by the ridiculous perspective that started forming in my head; even if Hidan was right, there was no way I would agree to that. "What? No, just... I don't think this is a good idea." I couldn't even imagine describing what's been happening for years in front of a group of random people, judging if I was even telling the truth; well, I couldn't possibly brace myself to even enter the courtroom.

"Leave it to me, then," Hidan replied gruffly. Before I opened my mouth, he raised his hand and repeated, "Just leave it. Believe me, I'll take care of that."

Well, it wasn't like I didn't believe him.

The problem was, I was absolutely certain that he was being _serious_.

"I don't want you to get into trouble because of me."

Hidan sighed. "Of course you don't, that would have been fucking awkward if you'd had. Listen – this is not a fucking soap opera. I'll handle this my way." I continued to gaze at him in fear. "What? Easy, I'm not a fucking hitman!"

"Why do you care so much?" I couldn't resist the question that's been bothering me for quite a long time. "Somehow, you didn't hate me like everyone else. Somehow, we became friends. Somehow, you still like me and I just _still_ don't get it," I confessed firmly, eyeing the albino.

"That's what people do," he answered simply and grabbed his coffee which was already almost cold. I wanted to say something else but, for some reason, I wasn't sure what exactly was running through my mind. I gave up and started at my own mug. "Okay?" I heard.

"Yeah, okay." I smiled awkwardly and kept my gaze down.

I left Hidan's place early in the evening, hoping that I would manage to sneak in unnoticed by my father. I carefully turned the key in the lock and stepped into the house, where the wave of pleasant warmth immediately hit my face. I quietly closed the door and headed to my room and looked around; the state of my room was, to put mildly, pretentious. My clothes were strewn around on the floor, my textbooks were swaying on the desk and the med was still unmade. No, I normally wasn't that messy - I just found it difficult to organise my personal space when I subconsciously tried my best to avoid coming home at all.

As I sat down and took off my jacket, I heard my father's steps on the stairs. Seconds later, he opened my door and eyed me up and down.

"Where were you?", he asked dryly.

"At Hidan's place," I murmured, hoping he would not get angry. After all, he didn't seem to despise Hidan as much as me. "We went to a pub yesterday and we went to his flat afterwards, it was easier to stay there rather than coming here in the middle of the night," I continued carefully. "I'm sorry."

My father was silent for a few very long moments, whereupon he looked around and growled, "Clean up your room. It's a fucking mess, Deidara."

"I will," I assured him frantically. "I'm going to do it now."

Hearing that, my father left without a word.

 _I'd better start cleaning._

When I showed up at school on Monday, I could feel that something has changed. As I entered the classroom and sat down, I noticed that Hidan, Brandon and a few his friends were not there. They had nearly ten minutes to get to the class on time but I couldn't help getting anxious. The last thing I wanted was to have Hidan on my conscience.

Fortunately, the albino showed up together with those guys just on time. They all were stony-faced and I only supposed what the topic of their conversation was. I was only glad that they didn't get physical, although I did realise it could be only due to the fact it was morning, and they were at school. I sighed and welcomed the albino as he sat down next to me. Hidan only smiled and started unpacking his things and placing them on the desk in quite a nervous manner. Annoyingly, I had to wait till the lunch break to talk to him; we went outside

"Jeez, I'm sleepy," Hidan whined. "These lectures are pointless, I can't remember any of this shit anyway."

"Tell me about it," I mumbled.

"Well, you're always drawing some stuff anyway," the albino pointed out.

"That's the only thing I can do, apart from procrastinating." I rolled my eyes. "By the way, did you speak to Brendon?" I tried to make my voice sound as casual as possible.

"Hmm, have a guess," Hidan teased. "No, not really," he added as he saw my unimpressed face. "I approached them, they approached me, and hey, the day has just started," Hidan said ad I could swear that what he said didn't make any sense. "Don't worry about it."

"Of course, because they're just lovely, aren't they?" I coughed. "Just don't get into trouble because of me, yeah?"

"Of course, I swear I shall not do anything inappropriate," Hidan vowed ironically. "I can take care of myself, don't you worry. If I can live on my own without burning down or flooding the house, killing my neighbours or mistaking bleach for milk, I'll be just fine with everything else," he smirked.

"I'm serious, Hidan," I grunted.

"So am I." _Stubborn_ , I thought but didn't decide to continue to draw on that topic.

"Whatever you do, I just want to let you know that you have no idea how grateful I am, okay?" I added awkwardly, looking at the grey autumn surroundings. I was afraid to say that, but that was the truth; I was more than grateful. There were moments when I was pondering on what how I exactly felt about Hidan. The man had already changed my life, even before he found out what I have been going through. I knew I was lucky to be able to call him my friend – and yet, sometimes, I wished I could call him my partner, and I wasn't sure if that kind of fantasy was a result of my gratitude, my lack of experience in maintaining friendships or, possibly, love, which always seemed just a little bit surreal.

"I know-," He paused. "And I want _you_ to know that I don't waste my time for bullshit. I told you what I think you should do, and who you should speak to. If you really think that I'm just going to beat them up and be the one to blame instead of them, you're wrong, I'm not that stupid. As much as I hate to say that, you need to tell the cops because this whole thing is not about a broken nose of a few bruises on your cheek. I can tell them to fuck off and I can be your annoying shade so they won't anywhere near you but a few punches aren't going to do the justice. You seriously need to do this, man."

I stared at him. "Hidan, I told you that I would not..."

He shrugged his arms and stated, "Well, I'll keep on reminding you then. I don't know why you hate this idea so much..."

 _And you won't know._ He couldn't possibly know my reasoning - he's never been in my shoes.

"It's just weird," he stated after a few moments.

"What is?"

"How everything fucking depends on something. I'd like to know what shapes people and their feelings, what makes them know that they like you, hate you, love you, care about you. Sometimes you can look at yourself in the mirror and question everything you've ever done, sometimes you think you're doing quite well. It's all bullshit. It's all pointless."

I glanced at Hidan; there was a peculiar fierceness on his pale face. He was looking straight ahead, as if he wanted to cut everyone off and just stay like that forever, alone, procrastinating.

"That's how it works," I admitted. "Sometimes the pattern all breaks down. Sometimes it doesn't, and it's the person who just fades away. Sometimes."

We sat in silence for a while, when Hidan started, "It seems as if I left Germany years ago, you know. I didn't expect the time to flow so quickly but I don't miss anything, really. I mean, it's not like I expected to be sentimental, I don't really get attached to people, and that's probably thanks to the fact I and my father were always moving around: I kept on making friends, I kept on losing friends, always the same shit. It was so natural that I stopped caring. Shit, it sounds sad as fuck but it really wasn't, I didn't feel abandoned or something. It's just a state of not giving a single fuck about people around you because you know you're about to go somewhere else soon anyway. People pass, buildings change, and you just keep going without looking back. But now something did change, you know." He looked at me. "I got engaged in something here, like, for the first time in ages. It's not like I don't care anymore, and it just feels a bit odd, you know? A good kind of odd, though," he smiled.

"I hope so," I replied simply. "If this could mean you, this is the first time in years when I feel I trust someone without being scared of them. Actually, maybe the first time."

"It actually could mean something. It even does," Hidan smirked.

 _How?_

"By the way, I suppose not everyone hates you that much. Maria texted me yesterday and she even mentioned you a couple of times." Hidan started with a smirk on his face. "Well, I'm sorry to spoil this for you but she's still fixated on me... but I think she kinda likes you."

"...because she fancies you," I finished for him. "You know, they always do the smart plotting bit so they seem nicer than they actually are," I added unwittingly with a slight smug on my face.

"Wow, you're savage," the albino laughed. "I swear you're getting better at this."

 _The human brain is a funny thing_ , I thought. _The more you have, the more you feel, the greedier your become._

 _How much do I want?_

After school, I lost the sight of Hidan; the albino left the class as soon as the bell rang and there was no way I could find him in the crowd. I sighed and slowly packed my things, knowing that would mean I was going straight back home, where I wanted to start painting. I haven't painted anything in a while; to be more precise, since the time I started staying at Hidan's place so often. He, obviously, didn't have any painting equipment, and even if he actually had everything that I needed, I doubted this would change anything. At home, art was my best way of escaping from the reality but when I happened to wish to cherish the world around me, art simply had to wait for the right moment.

I reached for blue, red and white paints. I loaded my brush with navy and made that colour the very first layer. Then, using red paint, I delineated a few thick lines forming an outline of a face. By applying white paint and smudging the paints together, I eventually reached a weirdly bloody lilac; one of my favourite colours. I should mention that one of my beloved things about painting was the ability to create and find absolutely unique shades of certain colours; all in all, who needed blue paint, if they had green and yellow? Who needed to worry about purple, if they had red and blue? In the end, how could one get the same shade twice? I believed that every time I created a new colour, it was the only one time the colour could be seen; in my opinion, there was no possibility to obtain the same shade twice even if the difference was absolutely minimal.

I spent the next few hours playing around with the painting. The person who I initially starting painting turned into an explosion of colours. The eyes seemed blurred, and the whole face blended into the background, giving exactly the effect I wished for. Perfect only during the process of painting; a relic of the passing moment.

A sound of a new message reminded me of the real world. I grabbed a cloth, removed most of the paint from my hands and took the phone; _one new message from an unknown number_. I frowned and clicked on the screen.

 _"Hey, you forgot something last time we met. Meet me in the Ravelin Park xx"_

I read the message twice. I didn't recognise the number, and, to be honest, I wasn't sure what, on earth, I could possibly forget. Did I forget something when I hung out with Hidan, Maria and the rest of that bunch? It was already a couple of days ago and they could have given me that back at school. Hidan? Come on, why would he use a different number? He would be also the last person whom I would suspect of ending their text with _kisses_.

 _"Who is this?"_ , I typed quickly.

 _"It's Maria. Are u coming or not?"_

 _"But what did I forget?"_

 _"You paid for one of my drinks yesterday, remember? I didn't have any more cash on me."_

 _Ok, wait for me"_ , I replied after a few moments of hesitation. I didn't remember that situation and I could swear that Maria would have borrowed money from everyone else but me. However, yes, I got drunk and no, I couldn't be sure what exactly happened.

I went to the bathroom to wash off the rest of paints from my skin, and quickly brushed my hair. I put on a black jacket, took my phone, wallet and keys and quickly went downstairs.

"Where are you going?" I heard my father's bitter voice.

"I'm just gonna see a friend. I'll be back soon," I assured him, turning my head into his direction, but he didn't answer.

I did feel odd; it wasn't just because I couldn't remember forgetting something, it was because I knew that, at that point, I wasn't drunk enough to forget that I had paid for someone else's drinks. A part of me was suspecting that all of this was some sort of sick joke but even if it was just a stupid prank, I could at least face Maria and inquire why she decided to talk to me in the first place.

The Ravelin Park was around fifteen minutes walking from my house. I knew that park quite well as I spent quite a lot of time in there over the summer. The park was old and somewhat simple; one couldn't find there any exquisite flowers or one of those fancy little fences and decorations. There was only one fountain which seemed timeworn and certainly not photogenic. In fact, the park did seem slightly wild or even abandoned. The tall trees always swayed in the same way, at first visible against a pale grey sky, then hidden by the blackest night. And yet, I was grateful for its existence; sitting under one of those enormous trees, I couldn't feel anyone gazing at me; I couldn't see happy couples of families with children wandering, as the park's appearance was certainly not cheerful or inviting. I could spend hours listening to music, drawing or contemplating on my life nowhere else but there. In the daylight, I savoured the bright colours, yet at nighfall I drank in the serenity of monochrome. Did I appreciate that place because it seemed safe? No, not really. It simply did not seem dangerous.

When I finally arrived at the park, I couldn't see anyone near the entrance so I sent another text.

 _"Where are you?"_

 _"I'm sitting near the fountain, come over."_

I sighed, wondering whether that was going to be some stupid hide and seek game or she was being serious. If Maria wanted to be all that edgy, she could have stuck to watching video bloggers instead of making night escapades to local parks. I already found her annoying for being interested in Hidan; she was just a stupid girl with some crazy ideas borrowed from someone else. I still didn't know why she tried so hard to attract everyone's attention.

There were only a few lamps poorly lighting the area of the park. I have never been afraid of darkness, but walking around dark bushes alone didn't seem the most delightful evening activity. I sighed and tried to find my way to the fountain; I could swear it was much easier during the day. I was really tempted to turn on my phone's flashlight but, in the end, it didn't really happen; someone calmly grabbed my shoulder from behind.

* * *

Okay guys, first of all, thank you for nagging me to update the fanfic because I swear that I didn't realise how many days passed since the last update. Here I am, looking like a Halloween girl all year round, and here's the new chapter which is the longest one I've published so far so this will hopefully make up for the wait.

Let me know what you think~


	13. Empty

"Wha-", I managed to exclaim before someone turned me around and kicked me in the stomach. I fell on my back, and the last thing I could remember was a blunt bonk in my head.

I was woken up by a splash of cold water. My eyelids seemed heavy, and once I opened my eyes, the sensation of dizziness filled in my head, just as if my brain turned into an elusive ball of light. I heard some voices and laughter around me, but, dazed, I didn't recognise them immediately. Everything appeared to be happening behind a thin wall; close enough to alert me of the building up violence, far enough to fill me with a desperate sense of blind hope - until the moment I felt a strong kick in my stomach. I screamed; my fingers touched the bleak floor trying to keep the body away from falling. Strangely enough, the hit made me more aware of the surroundings; I managed to slowly turn away and look around. The first thing I saw was, ironically, an empty bottle where the cold water probably came from.

"So stupid… You really didn't see it coming?"

 _Fuck._

I knew that voice. I knew that and I couldn't even say I was surprised; I subconsciously expected to hear it everywhere, at all times. No, my eyes did not widen; they squeezed. I raised my hands over my hands in a feeble attempt to protect myself from a more harmful hit; that was only one of the many results of an instinct shaped by pain.

No, my eyes did not widen; they squeezed. I raised my hands over my hands in a feeble attempt to protect myself from a more harmful hit; that was only one of the many results of an instinct shaped by pain.

"What the hell are you doing?" I choked.

Although I tried to, I couldn't stand up; my scrawny legs seemed paralysed. I had no idea how long I had been unconscious; the only thing I was certain of was the pain slowly but persistently exploring my body; when everything else fades away, pain is the only thing you can depend on, no matter whether you accept it, despise it or love it.

"You think you won it, don't you? That, somehow, you wrapped Hidan around your finger and everything is going to be okay for you, huh?" Brandon's disdainful voice was rumbling in my head.

I tried to stand up, but I couldn't quite control my legs. Instead, another kick thwarted my intentions.

"We're not gonna get easy on you."

"You do know this is over, don't you?" I mumbled, trying not to cough up blood. I knew I was just bluffing but I didn't care; I wasn't sure what I wished for. I was somewhere, god knows where, with people who were capable of anything; what were the chances I could make it any worse? Maybe it was just fear paralysing my thoughts but I couldn't think of anything worse than the situation I had already put myself into.

 _Stupid_. He was so right, wasn't he?

"You mean this?" Although I couldn't see his face, I could nearly feel the grin I despised. "No, this is nowhere close to over", he drawled.

Somebody else gripped my face and twisted it painfully. The next thing I felt was a harsh, mocking kiss and a fist crushing my cheek. I felt shivers down my spine and scrambled. I knew what was coming, and I did know there was no point in trying to escape. At the beginning, I tried, I tried every single time. But after two years of trying to break free from the abuse, I gave up. I knew it would only make things worse and prolong the torture. As much as I despised my involution of my will to protect my dignity, I couldn't say I had always been like this. I did, indeed, have hope once.

I couldn't hold back my tears when I felt hands on my body. I closed my eyes to save myself from looking at my personal executioners' face, but then I felt another a sharp pain in the abdominal region. I shrieked and looked at Brandon's face just a few inches away from mine.

"I told you, it's not gonna be so fucking easy this time," he snarled. "This went way too far and you know this. There's no coming back."

I felt another wave of pain and noticed a knife in Brandon's hand. Although it looked more like a penknife, it certainly could hurt. I felt faint seeing my own blood on the penknife's thin blade; I intuitively moved back and fell on the floor as I wasn't being held by anyone anymore. My heart was in my throat; they have never used a knife before. As much as they seemed not to have any boundaries in terms of hurting me, even _they_ knew that using a blade couldn't be hidden by any kind of makeup, and would be impossible to explain as an effect of my own clumsiness.

"Fuck, Brandon, let me go! What do you want?" My voice cracked as I couldn't control my anguish.

"That's a very good question, you know? I think I haven't fucking decided yet."

"Just leave me alone, please," I tried. "Hidan won't tell anyone, I won't te-" I didn't have a chance to finish the sentence as Brandon hit me again.

"How can I believe you now, bitch? You told the fucking so-called friend of yours, don't try to lie!"

"So what, are you just going to kill me?" I cried in desperation.

"I don't know!" he shouted, for the first time looking... _scared_? "Why should I even tell you? You'll see, maybe it's up to you."

Another kick, this time from someone else. I wasn't sure how many people was there, but I was certain it wasn't just Brandon and Kyle.

"Or maybe not."

Somebody grabbed my hands from behind, foiling my pathetic attempts to cover my abdomen. Brandon stood up, pale, still holding the penknife in his right hand.

"We'll see, huh?"

 _I close my eyes again._

I didn't know how many hours had passed until I lost consciousness one more time. I didn't consider that time as the usual "forever" that people obtrusively use on numerous occasions. In the end, I thought about the time as about my life; all in all, no matter how desperately I tried to escape, the reality always found a way to chase me down, lock me up, ground and abuse. But this particular night was the first one where I was certain I was dying; and the first one where I _really_ wished to die. Every other time, there was a part of me that believed that I couldn't just die, that I had to keep fighting just because I never really agreed to being remembered as a troubled teenager raped and killed by anonymous offenders. I didn't want to be another headline in the local newspaper, a tragedy that lasted one falsely sad day. And yet, I broke, I fade away; just like my dignity years ago. I could smell it, I could taste it, I could feel it filling in my body like a black viscid liquid drowning my organs one after another; and when I realised I was about to faint, the only people I could see were the ones I loathed people smiling, considering me as some sort of cheap fun, a plaything to ridicule. Although I wished for a loving, caring touch of my beloved one in the moment of dying, all I had was a blade of a pitiful penknife on my throat and sloppy bodies plundering my body, taking away every inch of me.

My chest hurt as if my ribs were shattered; my body was imbrued with blood, sperm, tears and sweat. I could feel some sloppy cuts juicing up my pale carnation; the wounds were sharp; possibly not deep enough to kill, painful enough to wish for a murder.

 _Ridiculous_. It was ridiculous that allowed myself to believe something could change.

Once the world became an obscure space, the future events were the only piece of what I heard, what I found out, what I imagined, what my mind showed me in my nightmares, what I could see in the mirror with my own eyes. I could only assume that, for once, my body and stamina had mercy on me as they let me sink into numbness; the next thing I could remember was waking up in a hospital.

Everything was white, oddly sterile, silent. My first reaction wasn't, however, as in many people's case, an assumption that I was in heaven. I didn't believe in God so I had no reason to presume that I was granted a place in paradise. Besides, even if I did believe in some sort of deity, I wouldn't deserve an eternal happiness. So, _no_ – my first reaction was panic. My pupils widened, my heart started pounding like crazy, and if I could jump, I would have surely done that. Only after a while, noticing the medical equipment, I calmed down and looked around.

I slowly raised my hand and carefully touched my head; instead of blond hair, I could feel a coarse bandage. I squinted as the light in the room was too bright for my eyes; the air was warm, with a strong tincture of bleach. The table next to me was empty and I couldn't see my clothes or my bag anywhere. I never knew what usually happened with belongings of people who were in the hospital; I have never stayed overnight in one before.

I wondered who knew that I was in the hospital, and, even more importantly, who took me there. Did Brandon and his friends freak out and dumped me somewhere, or call the ambulance? I could only hope a nurse or a doctor who were taking care of me would be able to answer my questions. I spotted a red button within my reach which was, according to the superscription below, a nurse call button. I pressed it without hesitation and waited.

After a few minutes, I saw a young blonde woman in the door.

"Oh, you're awake," she said with a soft, slightly pedantic smile. "God to see that. How are you feeling, Deidara?" The woman asked, eyeing me up.

"Tired," I mumbled. "How long have I been here?" I questioned with a trembling voice. I didn't have energy to play nice but my anxiety awakened, giving me too little time to find out what was happening to me.

"Almost two days, love," the nurse replied warmly and continued in a more informal tone: "I'm going to inform your doctor that you are awake, he will have a few questions for you. Also…", she hesitated, "do you want me to call anyone? Your parents?" The blonde suggested.

"Tw-two days?" I asked, ignoring the second question. The first person who I had in mind was my father – furious and annoyed. How did he react to the news that his son ended up in the hospital?

"You were transported here in a really poor condition, honey," she announced calmly. I thought that she had to be really patient – my basic impolite responses surely didn't make me look like a good kid. "Your father has obviously visited you already, he seemed very worried. I'll let him know that you're awake," the nurse said in a comforting manner, completely unaware of the horror that emerged from hearing the word 'father'.

"I'm fine," I choked quietly. "He's probably busy…" I continued, hoping that I wouldn't have to face him that soon.

"How could he be too busy for his own son?" The nurse laughed and I thought she was too optimistic to comprehend or question my honest response. I shrugged and focused my sight on the plain white duvet covering most of my body, hearing the woman's steps; she turned back to say goodbye but I had one more question.

"How did I end up here?"

"I think your friend called the ambulance, he was the first one to visit you. A very pale boy, I can't remember his name. I haven't seen him since then, though. Excuse me now, I need to talk to your doctor. He will be with you shortly."

As she left, I couldn't stop the sense of embarrassment filling my body; the kind of feeling that makes you want to crawl under your blanket and stay there for the rest of your life. Too bad that, in real life, I didn't see that coming. _How the hell did Hidan come across me? How, and where, did I end up?_ As usual, I had more questions than possible answers. Feeling a little bit dizzy again, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, trying to find a comfortable position in the stiff and tiny hospital bed.

I didn't get to relax the silence for too long; in less than a quarter, a grey-haired man came into my room. He had tanned skin and was wearing distinctive round glasses. He glanced at me and looked into the document in his hand.

"Deidara Iwaga?" He asked, probably not expecting an answer. I nodded awkwardly, waiting for him to speak.

"It's good to see you awake. How are you feeling?" He asked just like the nurse which provoked me to wonder what the point of asking was – of course, I didn't feel too well, _I was in the hospital, for fuck's sake._

"Okay, I suppose…" I sputtered.

"Can you remember what happened to you?" The doctor inquired, frowning.

I choked, abruptly feeling sick, "not everything. I know that I fainted at some point."

"Yes," the doctor hesitated. "We had to stitch some of your wounds on your head and abdomen but, luckily, none of your inner organs were damaged." I instinctively touched my head again, realising that I either had my head cut when I was already unconscious, or I was already in such pain that I didn't even notice another wound. "No, it's all good now," the doctor added, probably assuming that I was worried about the stitches. "However, you have three broken ribs and a twisted ankle. It probably sounds tremendous, as I see that it's the first time your ribs are broken but they should heal in around a month, up to six weeks," the doctor paused, probably trying to express some sort of imposed friendliness.

The doctor cleared his throat, looked back to make sure that the door was closed, and continued, "There's also something else I want to talk about. You probably realise that we found evidence of physical abuse and rape on your body-" he hesitated, glancing at me. I tried to remain still, knowing that any reaction could trigger a response that I would possibly regret later. "Which has been found a continuous abuse. When we examined your blood, the results showed a great vitamin and mineral deficiency. Your arrival at the hospital has already been reported to the police and, as you are still underage, I will need to inform them about your current condition. Depending on what happened and what your father and you decide, they may need to collect a rape kit* and start an official investigation."

My face turned white. I started at the doctor, trying not to panic. Of course, I had realised that they would see that I had been sexually abused. Nevertheless, naively, I didn't think of that anyone would want to inform the services about it. In my defence, I had been awake for less than an hour then – I couldn't possibly comprehend everything at once.

"No, please," I started, smart enough to realise that this on its own would change much. "I'll tell my father about it, and we'll go to the police together. Please," I whispered, looking at the doctor imploringly. I hoped he wouldn't notice that I was lying; all in all, years of living in abuse made me a very convincing liar – one could say it was already a compulsive abnormality but, genuinely, living in a world of lies wasn't a privilege; it reminded me of being a boy holding a pile of letters and trying his best not to lose any of them.

The doctor's gaze was fixated on me, and I could tell he had a serious dilemma. Finally, he sighed and speculated, "I can imagine your father's support could be crucial in this case. If you wish to talk to him first, I understand. He shall see you shortly."

"Thank you." A fake smile appeared on my face.

I couldn't imagine either going to the police or everything that single decision would trigger. Social services, possible trials. I was almost 18, no one would send me to a new family; there was no point in changing anything. Although I dreaded my father's reaction to my current state, facing all the unknown, faceless, nameless people seemed even worse.

"Doctor, can I ask you something?" I muttered awkwardly.

"Of course, you can," the doctor answered promptly, clearly content with my change of topic.

"Can I call my friend? The one who called the ambulance. I want to thank him," I proposed.

"I'm afraid you can't really use a mobile phone now, as you are monitored by medical equipment in this room," the doctor stated. "However, once your father appears in the hospital, we can call your friend on your behalf if you wish so," he added. At that point, I thanked myself for remembering Hidan's number. One could say that seemed a bit creepy, but if they had only one person who you trusted, they would surely remember their number by heart, too.

As the doctor left, I took a closer look at my body. As I wasn't wearing a t-shirt, I could easily see my bruises as well as new bandages covering the wounds which were surely cleaned and sanitized. My body felt sore, although I had to admit that I wasn't in pain; I assumed that they had to stuff me with a variety of decent painkillers. However, I didn't dare to move in my bed; I was too worried about my ribs – all in all, I've never broken my ribs before. How could I know whether moving wouldn't make even more damage? It wasn't like I asked about it when I had a chance… I promised myself that would be the first thing I would do when I see the doctor again.

I didn't know what to think. It could be due to shock, but I wasn't grateful to be alive. I accepted is as just another invitation to continuing my life. So ironic, wasn't it? It was almost unnerving.

 _When you want to be dead, at least you have a goal. When you just don't want to live, you're really just empty._

Staying alive meant only going back to what I'd had before and there was nothing I could miss. Apart from Hidan, possibly; but it wouldn't change anything, would it? Besides, it could only get worse as I was absolutely certain that my father would obliterate me for bringing such shame upon him.

 _And yet, I was. I was empty._

* * *

*rape kit – a package where all physical evidence following an allegation of sexual assault are collected and used by the police to aid a criminal rape investigation

* * *

I wanted to publish this chapter earlier but I had a few, khem, personal issues.

In terms of the story, I can say that this chapter was a break-through, in fact, the first break-through that I would describe as major. And so, I can tell you that yes, we're far from the beginning of this story and yup, there's an emotional, legal, love and medical storm coming.

Stay warm and safe.


	14. Gratitude

"Hi, Deidara," Hidan said, sizing me up carefully.

"Hi," I answered awkwardly.

"How are you feeling?" the albino asked. His voice oddly nervous.

"Okay, I think," I claimed, wondering if any of us believed it for a split second. For some reason, I felt peculiar unrest cumulating in my heart. "Yeah, okay," I repeated, noting that my voice was shaking. "The doctor actually came around and told me that, in fact, it could have been worse. I've got a few broken ribs, and a twisted ankle, and I've got a few wounds and I think they stitched my head, but it's not too bad. It's not like I'm dying or something, just a few scratches, really, and I think they gave me enough paracetamol so I actually-"

"Deidara, stop," Hidan cut off. The albino stood up. I was breathing heavily, trying to calm down. _Just another panic attack_. I felt as if I wasn't able to breathe properly; my face turned red and tears started filling in my eyes. I could feel my body shivering; the room suddenly seemed so cold, although I felt fire spreading in my lungs. I knew everything started off in my mind but I just couldn't possibly control it; a wave of thoughts could always overpower me, never waiting for my approval.

"Hey," I heard Hidan's voice. "Hey!", I felt his hands on my wrists pulling them away from my face. "Hey," he repeated once again. "Calm down, okay? Easy," he mumbled, agitated.

The next few moments passed in restless silence; I was trying to stabilise my breath, silently weeping, hoping to quiet down and take control over my own body. Hidan was standing over me holding his hand on my shoulder; I could only imagine how ambivalent and bewildered he was likely to be. I doubted he had ever had a chance to experience a panic attack, hence I was afraid he would simply assume I went absolutely insane. Still, his presence and physical touch helped me to eventually calm down; I was grateful he didn't decide to call the doctor – after all, I didn't want to be transferred right to a psychiatric hospital.

"I'm fine, thanks," I said finally, reclaiming a stable voice. Hidan grabbed a chair and pulled it closer to my bed. As he sat down, I caught his asking glare. "It's just a panic attack. I can't really control it, sorry," I explained.

"That's fine," the albino declared. "I'm sorry, it was stupid to ask how you feel," he added. "I've always known it's fucking stupid to try to be polite." I couldn't resist a smirk.

I wiped off tears from my face in a pathetic attempt to look less woeful. Once the panic attack was seemingly gone, I had, indeed, a lot of questions.

"So… How did you find me?" I inquired.

Hidan stiffened. "I… got a text," he started, observing me tentatively. "From Brandon. He said that I would be interested to see what he had," Hidan paused. I wasn't sure whether he was stressed or embarrassed. "And fuck, it was just sick. I told him to fuck off but he sent me a photo of you, where you were just lying on the floor, unconscious, all in blood. I freaked out and called him, then met him in a park. Can't remember the name of that place, but anyway. Brandon arrived, in a fucking car; shit, I didn't even know he had a car. But yeah, he opened the car and got out, opened the back door and dragged you away on the floor. I swear I would fucking kill them but shit, you looked bad. I just called the police and ambulance. And you got here," he finished. The vision of is story made my stomach twist.

I sat in silence, analysing his words; I couldn't help but imagine how pitiful I had to look.

"Thank you," I said finally.

"I wish I had done something to prevent this. Anything. I was being fucking useless," he snarled, more to himself than to me.

"Please, let's just not talk about it, okay?" I asked. I didn't feel strong enough to discuss what happened. Nothing would change the situation I was in, and Hidan blaming himself for all of this could only make me cry out of frustration; he was the last person to blame.

"Okay, sorry, you're probably too tired. Did they tell you how long are you going to stay here?"

"Not really, no. My father will apparently be here soon, though."

Hidan raised his eyebrows. "Oh. Yeah, true. So he's gonna take you home?"

"Probably, yeah," I mumbled, feeling extremely awkward. I did not want to talk about it; about anything – even with Hidan. Sometimes I felt that no one could fully understand what I have been going through, and that unsettling suspicion was taking away my will to share my emotions with anyone, regardless of whether it was Hidan or someone else.

"Do you-" the albino started, but the sound of opening doors made him stop. He turned around just to see my father coming in. I gasped, quickly looked down and murmured, "Hello, dad."

"Deidara," he started; I couldn't quite decide whether the tone of his voice was cold or uneasy. "I had spoken to the doctors before I came here. I'm taking you home," he then announced bluntly.

I looked up and saw Hidan, who was gritting his teeth, and my father, who seemed peculiarly stoic. He was wearing a grey suit and had a black work briefcase in his hand. He gave the impression of a very busy man even though I knew he just probably loathed the idea of being bothered by me. I could only imagine how irritating my accident seemed in his opinion.

"Yes, but… um, what about my injuries?" I asked quietly, trying to sound reasonable.

"They have patched you up, haven't they? Nothing serious, you are welcome to pack your stuff and go home with me," he replied coldly.

"He has a twisted ankle," Hidan interrupted him abruptly. "You could help him."

My blood froze, eyes widened – _what the hell is he doing_?

"I'm sorry, what did you just say?" My father grunted, turning in Hidan's direction. The albino stood up – from his clenched fists, I could see he was more than simply irritated.

"I'm only saying that it's been, what? A couple of hours since he woke up? I'm sorry, but you were informed what he's been through. Show some compassion." I've never heard anyone talking to my father like this before; without fear, respect or empathy.

I could feel how Hidan was trying not to lose his temper. I believed the only thing that stopped him from calling him a fucking disgrace was the fear for me. He didn't want to make a scene not because he was afraid to offend someone, but because he knew it would be me who would suffer in the end. And yet, as I already knew, one of my definitions of the word 'miracle' was Hidan being able to control his nerves. Since I told him that my father had been beating me, those two didn't exchange a single word, and Hidan didn't even have a chance to involve in an argument.

I glanced at my father; his face turned red as he was eyeing the albino up. I thought that he could be lost in words not because someone stood up to him, but because someone stood up for _me_.

"I'm sorry, but who are you to tell me how to treat my son? I've already spoken with the doctor, kid. Besides, if my son hadn't been such a goddamn faggot, nothing would have even happened!" My father spat, pointing at me unceremoniously. Well, as for him, he was being even too nice – he was probably afraid to be heard by anyone from the personal. After all, the legal constraint to pick up his son from the hospital was possibly embarrassing and unnerving enough.

"Hidan," I said warningly. I gave him an imploring look and turned to my father, "I'm sorry, dad. I'll manage."

"Can he stay at my place?" Hidan interrupted me. The tone of his voice was much calmer; it seemed that she got my hint. "Since he's been such a trouble to you, _sir_ , I could spare you the torment and just let him stay in my flat," he offered, giving my father the fakest smile I had ever seen in my life. If the situation wasn't so tense, and I hadn't been terribly tired, I would have happily laughed.

My father seemed dumbfounded. "How old are you, kid?"

"I'm 18," he replied coldly but one could hear pride in his voice. Hidan absolutely hated when people were calling him a kid. Well, I could see why – all in all, he did live without his parents and was certainly doing well.

"How do you have the audacity to try to persuade me to do anything, then? You're a teenager, just like he is," my father pointed at me, just as if I was deaf or unaware of the world around me. _Typical_ , _Mr Kaede Iwaga_.

"I do realise that, sir," Hidan gritted his teeth, "and yet, I am just nicely asking for it. Just a few days," he added, possibly realising that he wouldn't go far with my father if he stubbornly tried to agree to his idea. I was impressed because I had never seen Hidan being so polite towards someone he absolutely hated – I could only suppose he was really trying to convince him to agree to his request.

"Why do you bother?" My father glared at Hidan suspiciously. I assumed he wasn't as angry at Hidan as he simply couldn't comprehend that someone could try to do me a favour. Since my mother, who was the only person who showed me considerable interest and love, died, Kaede has not had a chance to see anyone who would show me some sympathy. As my father isolated us from the rest of the family, calling them greedy and noisy, I haven't contacted my relatives, and I could speculate that I have never seen or heard of many of them. Obviously, I did find some of them on social media, but I've never had the courage to message them – after all, why would they want to talk to me? They probably already disliked my father and couldn't have a better opinion on me, the son they've never met.

I could clearly see Hidan's hesitation. Well, my father was pretty good at asking awkward questions. "He's my friend. That's what people do," he huffed after a while. "We met a few months ago, and it's not the first time you see me, Mr. Iwaga, so I don't think this should surprise you," he grunted, looking as if he had " _and don't pretend you're even more fucking stupid than I think you are_ " at the tip of his tongue.

"Hidan, that's just fine," I interjected but Hidan glared at me furiously and hissed, "Stop this, Deidara."

"Okay, you two shut up. I'm tired of this, Deidara. If you think you have a better place to live in, I don't want to see you in my house anymore," my father ruled coldly. "Go wherever you want, with whomever you want, whenever you want, and don't you fucking dare to come back home, then. Does this sound okay for you?" Kaede smiled cynically and turned his blue eyes on Hidan, while I realised I would rather be dead or at least asleep.

"This is not…" He started angrily, but then something else came to his mind. "He's not an adult. And you know all of this has been already reported to the police," he added with a bitter satisfaction in his voice.

My father stared at him in disbelief, appearing to be just a little bit indecisive for the first time in ages.

"Pack your stuff, Deidara," he barked at me. "I'll sign the documents."

"I'm going home?" I asked apathetically.

"You can stay with this guy, don't bother to come back too soon. At least I won't have to face the fact that my son is such a nancy on a daily basis," he snapped, leaving me and Hidan alone in the room.

"Are you serious?" I let rip, falling on my bed.

"I am fucking serious, Deidara. There's no way you're going back there. This guy is a fucking psycho, and I'm not leaving you alone to fucking die in there," the albino ranted. "I'm taking you at my place – if you don't like it, deal with it," he raised his hands. _Always so stubborn_ , I thought, but no; I wasn't angry.

"I'm tired," I muttered, and I certainly wasn't lying.

I've only been awake for a few hours and already had to face my father and Hidan. I felt nauseous, and genuinely wished to be left alone for some time, vomit and wash; puke until there's nothing else than bile in my mouth and spend two hours under hot water, scrubbing my body until it gets red and seems clearer in my mind.

Hidan bit his lower lip. "Do you think that your father will be waiting for you in a car?"

"I have no idea," I replied. _And I don't care_ , I wanted to add. I buried my face in the stuffy hospital pillow and decided to wait for Hidan to leave.

"I'll ask him," he stated and soon disappeared shutting the door. I wasn't sure if he realised that I wanted to be alone or he just started regretting standing up for me. I wouldn't be surprised by any of these options. I was too exhausted to think, let alone to care. My body hurt, my brain hurt, and my soul was nowhere to be found.

After around twenty minutes which seemed like eternity my father came back together with the doctor and… Hidan. I impulsively studied my fathers' face; he seemed enraged – even more than he was when Hidan talked back to him.

"Deidara," the doctor started. "You will need to stay here a little bit longer. As a report to the police has been made" – the doctor glanced at Hidan – "you need to wait for an officer. We have already sent the evidence found at the crime scene as well as necessary DNA samples. However, now, as you are conscious, I am afraid that you need to talk to the police so the investigation can proceed."

"Do I really need to do this?" I asked weakly. "I don't want to…"

The doctor looked at me sadly. His grey hair was making him look like a senior, and I wondered how old he actually was. He sighed and continued, "If you wish to wait, you are, obviously, allowed to do that. However, you would need to go to the police as soon as possible, as this would step up the process," he informed me calmly.

"I really want to go home now," I pleaded. The fact that the police has already been involved in this case was filling me with horror. "Please, I am feeling fine now," I pleaded.

"He will be safe at home," my father stated flatly.

"Well, if that's the case, you are free to go home, Deidara," the doctor announced, and fixated his eyes on my father. "I will request all necessary documents, which you will need to sign, Mr Iwaga."

I watched my father and the doctor leaving the hospital room together.

"He brought you some clothes, you know," he started. I looked at him, not sure what he meant. "Fresh clothes. There." He pointed out a bag in the corner. "You'll have to change, right?" The albino stood up and handed me the bag.

"Yeah, thanks," I said, looking inside and sizing up the clothes. They were, indeed, mine, and they were picked by someone who, indeed, had no idea what I liked to wear which made me certain it was no one else than my father. Blue jeans, a black Adidas jumper and a navy sports jacket – some of the clothes that have been in my wardrobe for ages, never worn. At least the underwear and socks weren't much different to what I would normally choose.

"Your shoes are next to your bed," Hidan pointed out. I leant to the left and glanced at the place he mentioned where I noticed my black boots; they were in a deplorable condition, but still – mine.

"Do you want me to leave or turn around?" the albino asked as I straightened my arms and sat in my bed.

I couldn't help but look around the room to check if there were any mirrors inside. I knew I was being paranoid but the perspective of anyone seeing my naked body was filling me with exuberant fear and disgust.

"Just turn around, that's fine," I mumbled, blushing.

Hidan nodded. Although I wanted to be deal with the stressful obligation as soon as possible, my numerous injuries foiled me from my intentions. I clumsily put the new boxers and I couldn't stop a hiss of pain as I attempted to put my left leg into the pant legs. It hurt like hell, bandaged, stiff and way too vulnerable. After a few minutes, I asked Hidan to turn back.

"Ready?" He asked as if he knew that I didn't want to go anywhere near the topic of my injuries, or being naked.

I nodded, preparing myself to stand up.

"Need some help? With your ankle or anything?" The albino asked and offered his extremely pale hand.

Although I felt ashamed, I did grab his hand and held it tightly as I made the first and, luckily, last attempt to stand up.

"Thanks," I repeated, avoiding looking directly at Hidan. I quickly let go of his hand and fixated my sight on the door.

"Can we go now?"

"Wait… Do you know where's my bag? I had my phone, my wallet in there…" I said anxiously.

"I'm not sure, but I think that the police took your clothes. They must have given your phone and wallet to your father afterwards," Hidan replied promptly. "I think it won't take him long to sign the documents, right? We can leave and wait for him outside if he is not already waiting in the car. I think he managed to deal with the hospital paperwork."

I nodded again and followed the albino. I couldn't quite comprehend the whole situation; it seemed too surreal. If somebody had asked me where I was going and what I was going to do, I wouldn't have answered – I simply wouldn't have known. I felt peculiarly numb and indifferent to everything that was happening around me; I was more of a spectator rather than a participant in the trial called life.

The walls of the hospital corridor were simply cream, not peeling or dirty, just cream. There was no decoration at all, apart from black and white photographs of the hospital staff – most likely either completely new or already deceased. The air had sterile fragrance which reminded me of some excessive bleach, or maybe just an unsuccessfully concealed death. Despite the pervasive peace, the hallway was the most part crammed with patients on trolleys, some tended by strained relatives and some alone. Although I didn't spend in that place a long time, I couldn't wait to leave the cold, artificially sterilised building, so I kept walking even though Hidan, who was just by my side, was observing my efforts with a sceptical look.

I felt relief when I noticed the exit door at the end of the corridor. Once we left the building, I felt weirdly overwhelmed by the fresh, cold scent of the late autumn air. I looked around and spotted my father's car in the long row of cars parked in the parking lot of the hospital. I have been in my father's car only a few times in my whole life as I couldn't think of a reason why could make him drive anywhere with me. We weren't a family – just two inseparable human beings who just happened to be unable to exist together without a mixture of violence and fear. I would normally be afraid to get in the car but Hidan's presence kept me a bit saner even though I wasn't sure what was really going to happen to me.

I opened the door and sat in the back seat. My father didn't say a word, neither did I. He started the car and growled something about going home. I briefly glimpsed at Hidan, but then just turned my face to the car window. I wasn't the type of a person who needed to use public communication or cars too often, and yet, I did find an odd, relaxing pleasure in watching the world from the inside of a vehicle. That's how I always wanted to live: behind a glass wall, unreachable. _Safe._ Too bad that the reality always found a way to catch up.

When we arrived home, my father huffed, "What are you waiting for? Go and take your stuff."

I stared hopelessly at Hidan, who, as I believed, knew what he was doing.

"Will you come with me to get what you need?" he asked, ignoring my father.

I nodded and clumsily left the car, trying to carefully manoeuvre my body so I would not strain my twisted ankle or broken ribs. It didn't quite work out, and my silent moan didn't escape Hidan's notice.

"Sorry, I'm an idiot," he snarled, angry at himself, and rushed to help me, but his move towards my hand made me jump back and nearly fell on the ground.

"Fucking oaf," I heard my father, who also left the car.

"I'm sorry," I whispered and muttered an awkward "I'm fine" in Hidan's direction.

The albino didn't comment my behaviour but I could see the confusion on his face. Yet, I couldn't even think of explaining to him how much I wanted to avoid any personal contact.

My father opened the door and we both walked in. Walking up the stairs took me a while but the albino didn't seem too annoyed with my pitiful pace, and my father already went to the living room. I was glad he wasn't going to continue his causerie on what a crying shame his son was.

As I opened the door to my room, I saw my phone and wallet on the floor; it looked like my father just threw it and left. That was the one that I had with me on that evening. Although I felt nauseous once again, I carefully squatted down and check the pockets; to my relief, my phone and wallet were still there. I hid both of them in my new jacket and looked around inanely – _what now_? I let the apathy swallow my logical behaviourism and I would probably just sit on my bed and stay there if Hidan didn't remind me of his presence.

"Hey, what do you want to take?" He asked, putting hands on his hips as if he was ready to deal with everything that the world could throw at him.

"I don't know." I shrugged my arms.

"So who is supposed to know such things? Me?"

Silence.

"Okay. Your laptop?" he asked. I shook my head – I didn't really use the internet that much, and I could always use Hidan's laptop. There was nothing special about my old piece of electronic crap. The albino walked up to my wardrobe and sighed, "help?"

"I don't know," I croaked. "I'm not sure if I should go," I confessed quietly.

"What?" The albino fixated his sight on me, looking at least dumbfounded. "Why?"

"I'm don't know," I broke down. Tears started filling my eyes, and I just wanted to disappear. My nausea increased.

"I'm so sorry, I just…" Hidan started apologising, and I only assumed that he had no idea what on earth I was doing. _Or maybe he had_. "You'll be safe in my house," he claimed firmly. "I'll just take a few things from here, you're staying for a few days so that's not a problem. I'll call a cab in a while or something. And don't worry, I don't believe your father minds you staying at my place. He just talks bullshit. If he's the kind of scumbag I think he is, he'll be fucking happy."

I remained silent and sat down on my bed. I focused on watching Hidan, who started furiously putting my clothes into my school bag. When he finished, he reached for his phone and called a taxi. I wasn't sure why he was doing that. What he was bothered. I could just stay there. I felt like I had died years ago – _dead people don't need changes, do they_?

Just when we were about to leave, I realised I had forgotten about one crucial thing: my sleeping pills. As I kept them behind my bed, I was able to reach them slightly bending my body. Once I had them in my hand, I felt a little bit more secure. I wasn't sure if Hidan saw me, but he didn't ask any questions anyway.

"Come on, Dei," He urged me. "Do you want me to help you…?" He glanced at my leg.

"I'll be fine," I stammered. "Really."

"So, let's pretend I'm just an idiot and don't know what you're saying." The albino smiled slightly and grasped me tentatively. This time, I didn't jump off.

When we arrived at Hidan's place, I quickly left the albino and rushed to the bathroom – as soon as I could, considering my twisted ankle. I couldn't fight with nausea any longer. I threw up, choking fiercely. After a few minutes, I heard Hidan's "are you okay?", so I washed up my face and oral cavity with cold water. "Deidara?"

"Can you please leave me alone for a second?" I burst into tears. I needed silence. I needed peace. In fact, all I needed was to be left alone to die.

"I'm sorry." I heard the albino walking away. I knew he wanted to be helpful but he couldn't possibly understand how I felt.

I couldn't evaluate how much time I spent on meaningless staring at the white bathroom ceiling. At some point, I wanted to stay there till I can assume that Hidan would be away, locked in his room, but I discarded that idea – I was in his flat, acting like a fool. Broken fool. I had to respect his hospitality because, in fact, no one has ever done more for me than he has.

I carefully undressed and turned on the water in the shower. I glanced at my body in the mirror. I could only see myself from the waist above, and I thought it was better that way. I turned around and twisted my head to see my back; I could see red scratches and livid wales, possibly continuing under the bandages entwining the place where my broken ribs were located.

I went to the shower and gently washed my body and hair. I felt pain as the water and shower gel irritated some of my wounds, but I knew I wouldn't avoid it anyway. Once I turned off the water, I realised I didn't have a towel; all in all, I rushed to the bathroom as soon as I entered Hidan's apartment. I sighed and frayed myself with my jumper. _I didn't like it anyway_.

Once I finally left the bathroom, Hidan wasn't, indeed, waiting outside the door. I noticed the albino when I stepped into the living room. He was checking something on his phone but as soon as he sensed my presence, he put the phone away and tilted his head in my direction. I sat down on the sofa next to him and asked, "Won't you get in trouble for letting me stay here?"

The albino looked at me with genuine surprise on his face. "Why would I? Seriously, my father wouldn't care. And if he cared, he would probably tell you to never go back to that pathologic house, sorry," he replied angrily.

"Okay. Thank you," I answered.

"I thought that you would be sleeping here, yeah? You stayed here for a few nights before so I hope you don't mind. I'll get you some linen and stuff," he stated rather than proposed. "You can leave your clothes in here"-he pointed on a white shelf in the corner of the room-"and just use my stuff if you need. You know you can stay here as long as you want," he assured me.

"Thanks," I repeated, curling up on the sofa. "What about school?"

"I skipped only two classes today, okay? I won't get killed because of that," Hidan rolled his eyes. "And I think the teachers know you were in a hospital… And if they find out you've been released, they can fucking acknowledge you're not able to be back just now, yeah?" He added.

I nodded effetely; in fact, I couldn't possibly imagine going back to that school at all, but that was something I did not want to bring up. I didn't want to think about that, let alone discuss that.

"Do you want anything to drink or eat?" The albino asked.

"No, thanks," I refused quietly. I didn't want anything apart from peace and quiet, and a handful of sleeping pills.

"When was the last time you ate something?" Hidan inquired, staring critically at my bony hands.

"I was in the hospital, okay?" I squealed. "They had to nourish my body or something," I continued, not sure at all if that was the case. All I was certain about was that I couldn't possibly think about drinking or consuming food. "I'm exhausted, Hidan," I added, fixating my sight on the small black table in the middle of the living room.

"Okay, I'll leave you alone then, yeah?" He proposed, and I nodded with relief. "Just shout if you need anything," he reminded me and left. Once I heard him carefully closing the door to his room, I breathed out and laid on the pliant sofa.

 _You stupid, ungrateful bitch_ , I thought, ashamed and angry at my own behaviour, as if I wasn't the one who's duty was to control it.

I wanted to sleep, but every time I closed my eyes for more than a few seconds, I could see flashes of the past events; voices and images were drifting in my mind, fogging my eyes, playing with my senses. I wish I could just pass away like I had done earlier. The only thing providing me hope were my sleeping pills, which I took from home earlier. I reached for my jacket where I hid them and took just a couple. I managed to swallow the bitter pills without any water. I sighed and laid back, minding my broken ribs and numerous wounds; when the surroundings seemed to be fading away and the reality became unreal, I felt the most genuine kind of gratitude.

* * *

Thank you for your patience.

I spontaneously decided to go home for a week (I haven't been home since March) so I decided to leave this long-long (over 5k words, ok?) for you in case I would end up having to catch up with more stuff than I had expected.

Take care!


	15. The Price of Life

_No._

 _No._

 _Do._

 _Not._

 _NO._

I woke up screaming.

My interrupted scream billowed into a groan of pain. I bestirred sharply and opened my eyes just to see Hidan's concerned face in a yellow light.

"Deidara, are you okay?" he asked, staring at me without the slightest hint of embarrassment. "You've been screaming for at least a few minutes."

I exhaled, trying to control myself. _It was just a dream._

"It's nothing," I answered quietly, laying down on the sofa again. "What time is it?"

"Around midnight," the albino replied, shamelessly studying my face. He sat on the edge of the mattress and ran fingers through his white hair. He looked as if he was considering something but, whatever it was, he decided not to share it with me.

"Are you going to school tomorrow?" I tried to pretend that nothing happened, unconsciously interlacing my fingers in a nervous manner. I didn't even realise that I tried to talk to Hidan about school earlier on that day. I thought that this was just a side effect of my sleeping pills, how I liked to call them; pills for schizophrenia that I got without a prescription online to use it to deal with my insomnia didn't sound that innocently. Well, they were probably not as soft as sleeping pills; after taking them, apart from dry mouth and the effect of heavy eyelids, I tended to be abnormally perplexed and numb.

"I don't know." The albino shrugged, clearly surprised by my stubborn change of topic. "I'll see in the morning. It's not like school is the most important thing now, is it?" I felt awkward hearing his words and I couldn't be sure whether he saw the abashment on my face. Yet, he didn't seem embarrassed at all; I surmised it was just me who over-interpreted everything.

"Just don't get in trouble, okay?" I muttered.

Hidan opened his mouth to reply, but hesitated and stood up. "Are you going back to sleep?"

"I'll try." In fact, although my eyelids felt heavy, I knew I couldn't let myself fall asleep again – not when I knew I would wake up screaming again. Still, I didn't want to share my concerns with Hidan; I needed to be alone and prolonging a discussion on a topic that did not quite existed was pointless.

"Listen… can we talk?" Hidan looked at me; he seemed tired – maybe he was just fed up with my pathetic behaviour.

I fixed my eyes on the table behind him; I said it once and I hoped no one would make me say it again: I didn't really want to talk to anyone. My internal blockage was made of fear, exhaustion and pretended sleep, and it seemed that Hidan couldn't break it that night. "Can we do it later?"

Hidan bit his lips. "If you promise that we will."

I nodded. This time, I knew it wasn't another lie. _We did need to talk_. Despite all those times when I renounced that there was nothing to discuss, I had to do it, eventually – just not at that time, not on that day.

 _As if the next day would be any better._

"Do you want to be alone, then?" The man stated rather than asked, and that made me wonder whether my facial expression or behaviour were so off-putting that he finally gave up on trying to get to me.

I wanted to ask him to stay. I wanted him to sit next to me, hug me, let my body possess his warmth and confidence. I wanted to talk to him without rhyme or reason and hope that he would understand. "I don't know. Maybe I'll try to fall asleep again," I mumbled instead and twisted on the sofa. The albino nodded and stood up.

"If you need anything, just let me know," he reminded me one more time.

Once the door closed, I hid my face in my hands. It was going to be a long night.

The next morning, I heard Hidan going to the bathroom. I didn't get much sleep; maybe only an hour or so, once my brain shut down and I couldn't recognise whether I was daydreaming or still awake. I was afraid to fall asleep and let myself be devoured by my own memories and nightmares. After the whole night, I also got quite hungry – I wasn't sure when the last time I had a proper meal was. I wanted to go to the kitchen but I was afraid to wake the albino up; and so, I decided to wait for him – besides, I wanted to ask him if I could get some food. I knew that he had already done much more than I would ever expect him to do; the last thing I could wish for was me becoming an ungrateful idiot taking everything in his house for granted.

I checked the time on my phone. 8:30. _He definitely wasn't going to go to school, then_ , I thought. I decided to persuade him not to waste any more classes because of me. I wasn't worried about school, but I didn't know what kind of problems he could get into if he missed too many classes without a legitimate reason. Yet, it was his own decision.

Once he eventually came to the living room and we went together to eat something. Hidan didn't have too much in the fridge; he said he was usually buying just some snack to get through the day – so did I.

"Did you get some sleep?" He asked casually, sipping his coffee.

"Some," I answered apathetically, gazing thoughtlessly at my toast.

"How are your injuries?" The albino frowned. "I forgot to tell you that there are some bandages, hydrogen peroxide and antiseptic gauze in the shelf next to the sink. I've got some paracetamol, too, if you want," he added. "Sorry that I didn't mention that yesterday, I just forgot."

"Thanks. I'm okay as long I don't move," I replied, giving Hidan a crooked smile. "Shit, I forgot to take my cold gel from home," I realised, not fully aware that I said that out loud.

"Ok, I can get you one if you want," the albino offered and rolled his eyes. "I've just shown you a fucking pharmaceutical collection of first aid kit stuff. I'm gonna go to a shop anyway because there's nothing in this fucking house." Hidan stretched his arms behind his back. I thought that he looked somewhat drained. He had shadows under his eyes, and his usually gelled hair looked unusually unruly. I wondered if that was me who was bothering him and interfering his daily routine, assuming he had one at all. "Deidara?" I looked at him expectantly. "We really need to talk."

I remained silent.

"You know that I have already called the police. They are not stupid, you know. They knew what happened, that's why they already started collecting the evidence. But it's you who has to make the claim. They won't be able to do anything if you don't reveal what happened. What has been happening for years. They have the evidence but if you don't say anything, they will handle the case as a brutal beating, nothing more. You need to report what really happened, Dei," he said. "They can't just get away with this."

I started at him in dismay. _He can't be serious_ ,. I wasn't ready to talk about anything that happened either that night before, and I doubted that would ever change.

"I know it seems impossible but you can't leave it like this," the albino pleaded. "This is just…" he hesitated, putting down his coffee. "I just…" He ran his hands over his hair. "Fuck, this is all my fault, right?"

"Wha- what do you mean?" I croaked; I had a lump in my throat and a needle in my heart.

"It's fucking me, isn't it? I should have done this as soon as you told me about this", he nearly screamed. Hidan's face turned red and he stood up, brushing aside his chair. "I shouldn't have let you just stay and wait for them to hurt you. I should have-"

"Please, don't," I whined. I hid my face in my hands, trying to control a sudden wave of shivers. "It's not your fault, okay?"

"It fucking is, Deidara. And you need to go to the police station or I swear I'll do everything to kill them," he snarled, walking around the kitchen. His behaviour was scaring me. I didn't know what to expect, and I didn't know how to react. I have never thought that he could possibly blame himself for what had happened – it was all my fault, after all. He had nothing to do with that and, regardless of how passionately he tried to convince me, I couldn't possibly go to the police. What would I say? Hello, Mr Officer, some guys have been abusing me for 3 years because I happen to look like a girl? This just couldn't happen. I couldn't let this happen.

"Deidara, say something," the albino tried to soften his voice. I could see he was studying my face and probably realised what I felt. "I just don't know what to do, and I know I could have prevented this."

"No, you couldn't," I mumbled finally. "It's okay." As if my own body wanted to deny these words, I broke down in tears. The tension was knackering me. "I can't go to the police," I sobbed. "Please, don't ask me to do it, I can't, I-"

"They have to pay for what they have done to you!" The albino exploded again and I realised that, for Hidan, my tears were only another annoying trigger. I could see his hopeless anger but he had to understand – I just couldn't do what he wanted.

"You don't understand," I stammered quietly. "You don't understand how it feels like, to be…"

Hidan remained silent; there was a violent sadness in his eyes. He sighed and sit on the chair again.

"I know. I'm not trying to tell you some bullshit and pretend that I know how it is like because I never will," he admitted. "But I just want you to be safe. You deserve more than this." He reached out his hand and softly grabbed my forearm. I flinched at the touch of his body but he didn't let me go. "Please."

I shook my head, trying not to look at him. "You need to give me some time," I tried. "I can't do this now. I can't sleep, I can't eat, and I can't even look at myself because I feel sick every time I try to!"

"That's why you need to tell someone," Hidan insisted, but his facial expression softened. "The longer you wait, the more it hurts, and, deep down, you are well aware of that," he continued.

I pondered on his words for a second. Maybe he was right? In the end, there were two possible solutions: I could either end my own life or do something to stop my nightmares. I was aware of that I couldn't stand this situation any longer; when I thought it just couldn't get any worse, Byron would prove me wrong again, and the next time, and another – so what could possibly be even worse? I looked up at Hidan again and studied his pale face. I wondered why I couldn't be like him: confident, strong. Why couldn't I have a face that would say that I could not be disrespected, that I would fight for my life and dignity, that I would achieve something without someone's ironic mercy.

"I'm just scared," I confessed quietly; so quietly I almost couldn't hear my own words. "I'm so fucking scared, Hidan."

The albino's hand went down and tentatively squeezed my hand. "I know, but you have to do this. I'll go with you if you want," he pleaded. "I can take you to the police station today…. Not now," he added quickly, noticing my bewilderment. "We can go later, or even tomorrow, so you would have some time to prepare yourself. But it should be fine. It _will_ be fine. I promise."

I wasn't sure how I felt; a part of me wanted to believe him and do exactly what he said; the other side of me wished for a successful, quick and painless suicide. Among all of my insecurities, I could also sense another one, whose name was Hidan. The albino's behaviour was simply confusing me and, at that point, I wasn't sure who he was in my life – my best friend, a brother I never had or… No, it was stupid. _Love is overrated, isn't it_? One thing I did know was that I had to make a decision, and I didn't have much time.

"Will you go with me?"

"I will."

The next day in the afternoon, after another sleepless night, Hidan and I finally left home and headed to the police station. The brick building seemed archaic and dreary. I felt anxious not only because I was absurdly scared of people passing me on the street or sitting near me on the bus; I was terrified as someone who has never been at a police station. I have always considered the police as a problem rather than an institution that could help me – that was probably why I tried to persuade Hidan to go back home at least five times during our commute. And yet, the albino was adamant; there was that odd obstinacy on his face, and any of my arguments didn't seem good enough to find its way to his mind. I did know he was probably right. Nonetheless, at the same time, the only thing I expected to encounter was another disappointment.

Once we entered the building, we came up to the information desk. The middle-aged lady sitting at the desk had blond curled hair and glasses. She smiled dryly once she noticed our presence; I took a deep breath and came up to the desk with Hidan by my side.

"Good afternoon, how can I help you?"

"We… Um..." I started, suddenly forgetting about all the imaginary confidence that I had wished to have.

"We wanted to report a crime," Hidan interjected, noticing my confusion. "My name is Hidan Yuga, and I reported an assault two days ago. He" – Hidan looked at me – "is the victim, and we wanted to give the full testimony." I wondered how he managed to be so cool-headed, and why he did not seem unfamiliar with that sort of terminology; I realised that I didn't know about Hidan as much as I wanted; probably because most of the time we spent together either me, or he, or both of us were preoccupied with my own pathetic world of issues.

The secretary nodded with understanding and told us to wait a moment. She reached the landline phone that was next to her at the desk and made a short call. Once she hung up, she turned her eyes to me and asked me to go to the room number 2.

"Should I go there on my own?" I asked, looking around anxiously.

"Yes," she nodded. "Your friend can wait here." She added with a slight empathy in her voice. I looked at Hidan doubtfully.

"I'll wait here. Everything will be okay, yeah?" He pleaded, patting me gently on my shoulder.

I glanced at him and clenched my hands; my nails were digging into my skin bringing both pain and relief. I wanted to say something but I just couldn't think of anything reasonable enough so I simply nodded. I knew there was no turning back; in fact, it wasn't even me who made the decision. Hidan was the one who called the police in the first place, and I could be either grateful or mad at the albino. I did realise that gratitude was the only acceptable reaction; and yet, I felt too weak to embrace and express positive feelings towards anyone. Some people could say that being indifferent was the most difficult thing in the world; to me, remaining numb was the weakest moment of my existence. If you are numb, you don't really have to do anything; when you want to be grateful or cheerful, you need the strength to talk, to smile, to look; and sometimes it happens that this is already way too much to accomplish.

I looked around as I went through the blue glass door and ended up in a narrow corridor. The yellow walls were covered in various posters regarding safety and crime reporting. There were doors on both sides and, luckily, I quickly discovered that the room 2 was, luckily, just a few steps away from the main door leading to the reception. I took a deep breath, counted to five and knocked. I heard a hearty "come in"; I pressed the door handle and stepped inside. I immediately saw a middle-aged policeman sitting behind a simple steel desk swamped with some papers.

"Hello," I mumbled and cleared my throat. "My name is Deidara Iwaga, I wanted to report a crime," I started.

I swiftly realised that as much as there was a difference between a single crime and a lifelong strain of torture, the division between want and need was huge enough to decide on the price of life.


	16. Identities

I wasn't sure how much time has passed since I silently closed the door that freed me of the interrogation room. It felt like seconds, like hours, like ages; like eternity which, of all things, I loathed the most. Even though I didn't pay much attention to my own body's actions at that time, I assume I was crying; tears imperceptibly appeared on my unhealthy grey face just like all the bruises that showed up and disappeared on my skin over all the years of my life. They all would fade away and come back sooner rather than later.

Although the policeman assured me that reporting the abuse was the 'right thing to do', my mind refused to agree to such a courageous statement. I was aware of that my report was merely a drop in the ocean of allegations, interviews and my own invincible anxiety waiting just around the corner. And yet, I knew that the was no going back; once the report has been made, I couldn't just walk away or say that "it didn't matter" anymore. As much as what I had done should have filled me with pride, I was stuck between feeling suicidal and distressed. _Ungrateful_. That was all I could think of before I went through the main door and ended up in the waiting room, where I spotted Hidan. The albino jumped to his feet and approached me with an anticipation in his eyes. "How was the interview?", he questioned.

"Okay," I replied slowly, looking down, trying to avoid any possible eye contact.

Hidan sighed and clapped me on the back. "Hey, you did good," he stated. "Did they tell you what's going to happen next?"

I bit my lips and tried to recall everything the policeman said. Considering that I was still shaking after the encounter, that wasn't easy at all. I looked around to see if anyone was there because I didn't want to make a public confession even if that was just a single question. "They will need to interview some witnesses, suspects, look for witnesses, probably. I mean, I told them who did this," I added quickly as Hidan frowned in disapproval. "But they need to find evidence for all of this. It's going to drag," I wailed sadly. "Listen, can we get out of here?" I asked imploringly.

"Yeah, sure, left get the fuck out of this place," the albino agreed and we both headed to the bus stop. The frosty air filled my lungs and effectively cooled my weak body within the first few minutes spent outside. Luckily, it didn't take much longer to get to the bus stop, and I quickly noticed that, thankfully, me and Hidan were the only people waiting for the bus. Unfortunately, Hidan used it as a perfect excuse to continue our discussion. "So, you said that they are going to contact anyone who may be involved in this case?" He inquired. I nodded and peered over his head to make sure no one was coming.

"Hidan, can we not talk about this now?" I then moaned and felt my face turning red. Hidan seemed oblivious to the fact that discussing what happened eye to eye was painful and awkward, let alone discussing that on the street where everyone could hear us. Happily, my request dazzled the albino as he raised his hands defensively and murmured, "fine, sorry."

I nodded and put my hands into the pockets. I started shivering; I have always been a cold person but the recent distress that successfully dissuaded me from eating and taking care of myself; this surely resulted in losing a few pounds and affected my, already poor, immune system. I put my hands in my pockets and stuck my neck out hoping that the bus would arrive soon. I was afraid to look at Hidan; the idea of facing him seemed oddly scary and even though I knew that, despite the fact that he had every right to hate me already, he still seemed to like me, I wasn't able to explain why I behaved like that. I didn't dear to hope that he would understand how I felt - even I couldn't quite understand my own behaviour - neither the exhaustion nor the misery running through my veins.

I would say we stood in silence but where on earth would anyone find a silent city? People and cars were passing by, someone was yelling, someone was calmly talking over the phone while a homeless dog was barking at pigeons annoying flying around the bin containers. The city was never quiet, so was my mind – always full of talks, whispers and screams.

Once the bus arrived and we finally got in, I swiftly sat on one of the free seats, gratefully enjoying the warmth. Hidan ensconced himself on the seat next to me. "I'm gonna go to do some shopping. As I said, I have nothing in this fucking house," he stated. I looked at him and nodded.

"I can go with you," I offered. Well, in fact, I had to go with him regardless of my will; it was his flat I was living in and he was the one who had the keys. Still, I would rather state the obvious than wait for another pointless question.

"Okay," he replied bluntly and grabbed his phone. The albino frowned and started typing a message. Trying not to peer, I focused my sight on the dirty glass window. "It was Maria," he informed me, and I hardly stopped myself from rolling my eyes. "Those fuckers are still absent."

"Oh," I only hummed, trying to control myself. The fact that Brendon and his pals weren't at school actually surprised me. Why would they suddenly stop going to school if abusing me has never triggered them to skip classes before? I didn't believe that they would finally realise that they overstepped their bounds. Of course, I could start pondering on what was Maria's role in all of this - when did she suddenly become Hidan's... text buddy? Informer? But that was obviously pointless. I already felt that people just _knew_ what happened and it didn't matter what they did with the information. I couldn't possibly depict myself going back to that school again.

When we finally left the bus, we dropped into a nearby supermarket where Hidan bought the gel for injuries that I needed as well as some pasta, cherry tomatoes and milk. He also wanted me to pick some ready meals as neither of us liked to cook. I couldn't care less about food at that time so I picked a pasta salad for me and a sashimi set for Hidan as I knew that the albino didn't like vegetables. The only vegetables that he could possibly tolerate were tomatoes and mushrooms and I could swear he didn't despise them only because he knew that, otherwise, he wouldn't be able to eat almost anything. Once Hidan paid, we left the supermarket and finally went home. Although we were out for no more than a few hours, I felt absolutely drained; being outside filled me with both disgust and fear.

"Are you hungry?" Hidan asked as I took off my jacket and headed to the living room. I glanced at him absently and shook my head. The albino's forehead creased as he crossed his arms. "You can't starve yourself to death," he stated suggestively.

I opened my mouth to say something but then I closed them again. I sighed and curled up on the sofa. "I'll eat later," I promised after a few moments of silence because I realised that the albino wasn't going anywhere without my response.

Hidan lifted his eyebrows and leant against the wall. "Just make sure you will," he said resignedly. I felt bad for him; even I could see that talking to me became walking a tightrope.

"Hidan?" I rose my head and peered at Hidan.

"Hm?"

"So, you wanted to talk," I murmured bleakly. I didn't really want to elaborate on what happened in the interrogation room but I knew that ignoring Hidan and pretending that I forgot about his question would be simply disrespectful.

"Yup, precisely. So, how did it go?"

"Fine, I suppose…" I answered tentatively. "They need to gather enough evidence to prove that they… assaulted me…" I tried to avoid the word 'rape'. "They will question them, some other people… And then the case will go to court," I added.

"Some other people?" Hidan questioned, raising his eyebrows.

"People who may be related to the case, or have some information…"

"Like me?" Hidan asked inquisitively.

I nodded, trying to hide my embarrassment. The last thing I wanted to happen was treating Hidan as a witness in my own rape case. That perspective made me nauseous; I thought that everyone had a breaking point where they wouldn't be able to stand any more humiliation, and my breaking point would be my best… _friend_ to be caught in the middle of gruesome details of my abuse.

"And… You were right anyway," I started fretfully. Hidan gazed at me expectantly. "I mean, we do need to talk, not just about the stupid trial. It's just… weird. Too many things happened way too quickly and I'm just not sure who I am, what I should do, how I should live. It's like… It's me, isn't it? Every time I think my life gets better, the more hurt I get. Every time I tell myself that I became stronger, someone razes me to the ground," I stopped; my lower lip trembled and tears shimmered in my eyes.

"Hey, hey, hey, calm down. It's not you. It's never been you," Hidan sighed. For some reason, he looked genuinely troubled. "It's never been your fault." He slowly came over and sat on the backrest of the sofa. "When I saw you that night… I had no fucking clue what to do, you know? I mean… Fuck. I couldn't actually believe it was you, and that they were… just carefree, just as if that was normal. Casual. Motherfuckers. When I called the ambulance, I wasn't even sure if you were alive, and that was just sick. And I said I would protect you, and there you were, all in blood. It's just…" Hidan's jaw clenched and I could see that he was trying his best not to punch something.

"But I'm not angry… or ungrateful. You've done more than anyone else," I rasped. "And it's not like I don't want to tell you what's going on. I am just not able to. I don't know what to say, how to act, what to do, because no matter what I do, I fail. Every single time," I mumbled and quickly wiped tears running down my cheeks. I hated myself for being unable to control them.

"You don't fail, Deidara," Hidan exclaimed. "But if you do thinkthat what you do is failing, would you say the same thing to another teenager who's constantly beaten and raped is a fucking disaster? Or, I don't know, would you call a girl who's been raped a whore? Would you say that about someone else?" Hidan exclaimed, trying to make eye contact with me. He had a point. "No, you wouldn't. So don't kick yourself, you do know there are other people who will happily do it for you. Have at least yourself on your side, please." His voice changed from angry to peculiarly caring.

I didn't know what to say so I simply nodded, letting my tears fill my eyes again. _Masculinity has never been my speciality_. Besides, if behaving like a man meant that I wasn't even allowed to cry, I wouldn't want to be masculine anyway.

"It's just all too much. Everything that I do is just pointless. Everything always ends in the same way. I'm just fucked up," I mumbled heatedly, wondering if I was crying out of pain, sadness or anger. "How else can I explain this? It's just… I'm exhausted, Hidan. I really am."

"I know but… You can't just give up now. It all would be just pointless; all the years you've survived wouldn't fucking matter if you just gave up," he said confidently. "Damn it, you went to the police today, you let them investigate. It will be fine. And listen: yeah, I know, you've been through more shit than most people, I'm not going to deny that. And I'm not a fucking optimist or someone who would say 'enjoy your life' when it's all a piece of shit, and my religion doesn't say that either, but I think there's always some balance in life, you know? Sick things happen but you can always hope for better times and they do happen. Maybe you meet the right people, or a person, or find a better place… It doesn't matter what it is, but dying before finding that would be a shame, Dei."

I tilted my head and looked at the albino; in fact, I was simply staring at him for a few long seconds. His words couldn't change anything but the pretentious charisma in his voice and bold courage in his eyes gave me some sort of alternative I could refer myself to in a moment of weakness. I wasn't sure what that meant or whether that could make me feel any better but I thought that maybe I had someone who believed in me, and that hope could mean more than my own belief in my self-esteem.

For some reason, I wished I could just hug him, simply bury my face in his chest. Of course, I wouldn't actually do that – I was too afraid of that I wouldn't be able to hide that he was more than my friend. I knew I would lose him as a friend and as the brother I've never had. Besides, although my mind yearned for someone's warmth and acceptance, my body would shudder at the perspective of physical contact with another human being.

Hidan moved from the backrest of the sofa and seated himself next to me. I froze, not sure how to react. Yes, it was all in my mind; all those insecurities, all those immortal worries – but if it was all in my mind, and my mind was a part of me, why should I ever try to neglect it? I glimpsed at the albino who appeared to be even more tired than I thought he was. He wasn't looking at me; his eyes seemed absent, fixated on something I couldn't possibly see. And we sat there, in silence, unsure how to behave. Although we both were already over the fear of sitting together in silence, the stillness between us was devouring me; I wasn't certain how much longer I was able to try to escape it.

At some point, I comprehended that I couldn't stand the awkward atmosphere anymore. I softly leant my head on Hidan's shoulder and closed my eyes, partially exhausted, partially afraid of facing his reaction. The familiar jasmine scent reached my nostrils and filled me with some sort of unexplained comfort.

"Are you okay?" I heard Hidan's voice.

I nodded drowsily and let the albino decide if he should let me stay or tell me off for disturbing his personal space.

Quiet.

 _Here we go again._

The next day, I managed to convince Hidan to go to school. Although he didn't seem too pleased with my request, he yielded to my demand when I reminded him that he, unlike me, didn't have a reasonable excuse to miss classes. The teachers were informed about my peculiar indisposition but Hidan couldn't possibly claim that he was taking care of his miserable friend – after all, he wasn't my parent. Besides, I had the impression that the albino trusted me enough to let me be alone in his flat; not because he found me trustworthy, but because he decided to believe that I wouldn't kill myself during his absence. And _… wouldn't I_? If I had to be honest, at the beginning, when I woke up in the hospital, that was the only thing I could dream of, but when Hidan decided to take me to his apartment, I knew I wouldn't be able to kill myself just because I didn't want to do that in his house. I could be a mindless whore but I would _never_ want him to deal with the flashbacks of my dead body in his apartment. He simply didn't deserve that.

Once Hidan was gone, I made myself a cup of coffee and lied down on the sofa in the living room where and lazily stared at the screen of my phone. As I didn't have any unanswered calls from my father, I assumed that he was content with my absence. Still, I knew I would have to come back to my house sooner rather than later. I only hoped that I wouldn't have to be the one to inform him about the newly opened case; all in all, I believed that was the policemen's job, not mine. In fact, I suspected that they had already informed him about my report and that perspective filled me with bizarre yet sarcastic satisfaction; as far as I knew my father, I was certain that he wouldn't dare to beat me if he had the apparition of police trying to collect evidence confirming my abuse, even if he knew that I only told them about Brandon and his friends.

I wondered what was going to happen to me; in the end, I didn't know anything. I had no clue what I could encounter; truth be told, I wasn't even sure whether I was allowed to go back home. A part of me couldn't believe in peaceful silence and words which I have never heard. Although I used to dream, I never let myself believe; _how could I ponder on possibilities and alternatives when even my senses seemed an illusory trap?_

The police appeared to cause only a superfluous distress and pointless endeavour. Everything, including my own existence, seemed to be just a pointless effort – leading to nothing new, not giving anything in return.

The next time I looked up at the clock, it was only midday, and I was already going crazy; I had absolutely nothing to do. Normally, I would paint, draw or sculpt something, or at least go for a walk. However, since I Hidan didn't have anything that could resemble a canvas or paints and I was too paranoid to go outside on my own, I had no other choice that to numbly procrastinate in the house that wasn't even mine. Earlier on, I took Hidan's laptop and spent a couple of hours looking for a TV show that I could watch to distract myself from reality, but once I found something that seemed at least merely interesting, I would get bored of it as soon as I pressed the start button. _Pointless, just like everything else_. The bitter malaise was too overwhelming and it didn't take more than a few extra hours for me to simply take a couple of sleeping pills and go back to bed.

"Deidara?" A loud voice woke me up. Confused, I slowly opened my eyes and saw the albino standing over me. "Deidara, are you okay?" Hidan asked, clearly worried.

"Hmm? No, yeah… I mean, I was sleeping," I mumbled quietly and cleared my throat. I rubbed my eyes and swiftly looked at Hidan once again. From the corner of my eye, I peered over the window and realised it was already dark outside. Bearing in mind the season of the year, it could be as well early afternoon as the middle of the night. "Seriously, everything's fine."

"I was worried. You wouldn't move even though I called your name, like, five times? You've never been a heavy sleeper so, you know, it was just weird," he claimed and I was glad that he didn't go further and suggest that he was wondering whether I was only sleeping or tried to commit suicide.

"What time is it?"

"Around eight in the evening. What were you doing the whole day?"

"Nothing, I just… nothing, really," I stated awkwardly; in fact, that wasn't even a lie. Just… existed. Procrastinated. Made it to the evening. _Such a shallow life, isn't it?_

Hidan looked at me weirdly; I couldn't determine if that was disappointment or awkwardness in his eyes. Another thing that I was not able to recognise was my own mood – was I really affected by his behaviour? Was I stressed? I didn't seem to be, just as if I was standing next to Hidan, in front of my mirror self, lazily observing, judging, peering at with an indifferent smile on my own pale face.

The albino chuckled. "Did you… did the cops call you?" He asked.

I shook my head. _I didn't even think of that, did I?_

"No, not yet. I don't even…" I hesitated. "This makes no sense," I spat bitterly. "There's no way that this is..." I looked at Hidan. "Never mind. I'm sorry."

"Wait, wait, wait a moment, I don't even know what you're saying," Hidan snarled, only then suppressing his temperament. "So? Anything new?"

"No," I grunted defensively and sat straight on the sofa. "How was school?" I asked instead.

"Boring," Hidan shrugged.

"Can I ask you something?" I started. Hidan looked at me curiously which encouraged me to continue. "Yesterday you said that Maria messaged you about Brandon. Did you tell her…?"

"No… No!" Hidan exclaimed. "Hell no!" Hidan gazed at me. "Hey, you're absent. The teachers said that you have some personal issues. Brandon and his retarted friends haven't been to any classes in a while, people link facts," he shrugged. "But I haven't told anyone what happened to you, okay? I swear," he pleaded.

"So… She's just being nice, yeah?" I inquired sceptically.

"Okay, what do you _actually_ mean by that?"

"Is she... I mean…" I could swear my face turned red; I could only pray that my makeup managed to hide it. "Are you two together? Sorry for asking, I just…"

Hidan laughed. Strangely, it wasn't that awkward kind of vicious snicker or annoying giggle; the albino seemed genuinely amused.

"Oh man… No, we… Hey, is this a serious question?" He burst into laughter once again and it took him a few long moments to calm down and look at me again. I felt extremely uncomfortable because I didn't find that question funny at all. I hoped to sound like a normal friend asking his mate whether he fancied a girl; I didn't expect Hidan to act as if I asked him if he was a crypto-dendrophile*.

"No, we aren't," he answered finally. "What made you think we were?"

I shrugged, cursing myself for opening my mouth in the first place. "I don't know, you just seemed… close? I don't know. I just thought she really liked you," I mumbled in the end, accepting my mighty humiliation.

"She'd better do," Hidan responded suggestively. "She's cool, sure, but not my type, really. I've seen prettier bitches in my life so it's not like I'm desperate to get laid, and this is the furthest, apart from drama, we would go up to." I nodded, smiling slightly… "Why are you asking, anyway? Do _you_ like her?"

My eyes widened with horror; no, discussing relationships with Hidan wasn't a good idea. Not at all. Not even a mediocre.

"Christ, no. I'm not even straight," I reminded Hidan.

"Neither am I," he teased.

"You _what_?"

"I'm pansexual," Hidan explained. "Which means that the possibility of me finding a partner is better than just doubled." He grinned. _Oh God_. I choked, focusing my sight on my hands.

"Oh, I… I didn't know," I coughed.

"And now you know," Hidan summed up. "Anything else you want to know?"

"No, thanks, I'm fine," I declared firmly. Hidan grinned and I thought that he enjoyed the conversation more than I had anticipated. "At least the two of us know what we're standing on, right? Unless you're not gay."

"My gayness is doing fine, thank you," I grunted.

"Fab. But I'll tell Maria that you say hi," Hidan declared and left the room.

The next thing I heard was the sound of clanging glasses in the kitchen. Making use of the few minutes I had for myself, I rushed to the bathroom and quickly locked the door. I wanted to smash the mirror with my own head. Only I could turn an innocent question into a discussion of my own sexuality. As if that wasn't enough, I had an impression that Hidan was taking the piss out of me. Of course, I could be over-interpreting things, as per usual, but…

 _No._

No, definitely not. I wasn't over-interpreting, and I didn't even want to cry. _But why this, of all things, managed to make me happier?_

* * *

 _*_ Dendrophile – a person who is sexually aroused by trees.

* * *

Thank you for waiting.  
As I will publish the next chapter after Christmas, I want to wish you all Merry, Peaceful and Safe Christmas! Take care.


	17. Interrupted talks

I fell asleep before Hidan managed to come back home but when I woke up in the morning, I could already hear some heavy metal music coming out of his room; Hidan absolutely adored bands like Rammstein or Disturbed. Although I had never really been interested in music before, I started to enjoy the music Hidan listened to; well, it was in my own interest to get used to the things he was fond of as I lived in his house but that was not necessarily the matter. It seemed to me that everything he did, he enjoyed, he was interested in: it all had a soul, a meaning, some sort of passion I lacked.

Quietly washing my hands and face, I was trying to get rid of the tired expression that started making me look like a piece of trash. After the visit in the hospital, there was something missing in my face, just as if a part of me vanished. Maybe it was the greyish colour of my skin, maybe it was the sullenly drooping hair, maybe it was my body gradually disappearing because of my lack of both appetite and energy. Maybe it was the shadows under my eyes… Or maybe all of this together. Still, even the smallest attempt to make myself look better was better than nothing. Once I finished with my morning routine, I closed the door behind me and spotted Hidan sitting on the sofa.

"Hi," I greeted him and sat next to him on a sofa. I picked up a book that was tossed on the floor. "When did you come home?"

"I don't know, late," Hidan replied casually.

"Did you have fun?" I asked tensely, hoping that my questions would not be interpreted as being noisy.

Hidan giggled. "What kind of question is that?" He shook his head in disbelief. "We had fun, mum, we did drugs and had sex in a public toilet."

"You're crazy," I snorted.

"Very much... Don't worry, we live together, she won't beat you. This is a legit marriage," he remarked. I blushed and giggled hesitantly, not sure how to react.

"Sure, always," I summed up and grinned. "I'm coming back to school tomorrow," I said unexpectedly, focusing my sight on a word in a book whose title I could not even remember.

Hidan went quiet for a moment. "What?" I looked up and saw him staring at me as if I was out of my mind.

"There's no point in me sitting here," I reasoned; my voice was tired, so was I. "I'm going crazy in here. I'll fail the year if I stay and… There's just no point. It's not like no one ever knew what was happening. Everyone knew, just like they do now. I can't wait for the police to do something, I know they fucking won't."

"They are doing it at the very fucking moment," Hidan spat angrily. "But, in terms of school, that's about fucking time, Deidara. I thought you would never come out of this place."

I wasn't sure how to interpret his words. From all possible reactions, I didn't expect – _I hoped not to expect_ – anger or disappointment. My irreplaceable companion, anxiety, reminded me about its fragile construction of fear.

 _Maybe anger was all that we had left?_

"Yeah," I agreed quietly. "Is there… is there much to catch up with?" I asked casually, trying to put my fear on the side.

Hidan snorted and shook his head. "You do realise that you see me every single day and you ask me the same question on a daily basis, right? Wake up, man," Hidan laughed, shaking his head. Well, he was obviously right but I did not want to admit that sometimes the dumb questions I asked were the only way to keep me close to the real world.

"As if I cared about school... I was just trying to be nice," I grumbled.

"Not that _I_ care, either… But no, seriously, we haven't done much. A lot of this stuff is just some stupid revision for A-levels*." _A-levels,_ I thought. Of course, I was well aware of that the exams would eventually come at the end of the school year, but the realisation that we should, in theory, start to think about them seemed nearly unreal.

"Awesome," I muttered.

"You're gonna be fine." Hidan shrugged his arms. "No one gives a fuck about it now anyway, we've got ages."

I smiled softly, hoping that this would stay in my mind for longer than my concerns.

"Is that because of Maria?" Hidan teased, clearly unhappy with my silent acceptance of his words.

"No... Yes," I corrected myself. "Maybe you two make me realise how much I'm missing out," I reasoned.

"You really are," the albino coughed. "Although not in the way you think you do." I raised eyebrows and went quiet.

Sometimes I would find myself looking mindlessly at the albino. There were moments when I wished to be invisible not to just avoid people who hurt me but to be able to observe him without experience the feeling of shame or guilt when spotted. If I only was invisible, I would have spent hours peering at him so I I could possibly find peace. At times, I had the impression that Hidan cared about me more than a friend normally should. I usually interpreted that as a normal reaction to having a friend in such a hopelessly vulnerable individual. However, sometimes I could help feeling that there was something more to it. One time, when we were drunk, he asked me if I'd ever been in a relationship. I was already well aware of that he's had a few girlfriends in the past, and that was making me a little bit intimidated; I've never really had anyone. I've never really looked for anyone or felt any sort of attraction to anyone. If I hadn't been being raped from the age of 13, my romantic experience would have probably looked completely different, but, sticking to the reality, finding a partner was the last thing I could possibly think of. I pondered how it looked like to Hidan – was he interested in anyone? Did he fancy anyone? Since we met, he hasn't seemed particularly interested in anyone. I used to believe he fancied Maria but I they didn't get together, and I didn't think they had sex; Hidan would certainly mention that to me; or _so I believed_.

There was one time, of maybe a few fragile moments, when I thought that he might have seen someone more in me than just a friend. At the very beginning, before he found out about any of the abuse, at one point, when we went out to a pub, Hidan seemed very… pushy. I noticed a particular habit of him; once he became comfortable around someone, he would hug, poke or intrusively touch them without any particular reason. Well, in fact, I only assumed that it was a habit of him because I didn't spend much time with the albino among other people. Only later on, I realised that he had stopped doing this once I told him about my father and, then, about our lovely classmates, and even though I tried my best not to overinterpret anything, I couldn't help the impression that he would have gone further if I hadn't told him about that. And so, did this mean something? Anything? The range of possibilities freely floating in my head varied from disgust to desire, and I didn't feel the right person to try to distinguish those.

In the first place, however, I should try to decide who – what – I was, and that wasn't that easy. I knew all the things that I was not, and these included a functional member of the society. When left alone and not approached by anyone, I would only feel relieved and grateful; that was why I felt nothing but grateful acknowledging Hidan's sensual rejection. In the end, it didn't even have a chance to develop, fed on my wordless disgust and fear.

Later that day, I found myself sitting in front of an open notebook; Hidan let me copy some of his notes, even though he hardly had any, and even those didn't make any sense to me. Hidan would start writing a sentence and stop right in the middle and go on to scribbling some meaningless objects on the back of his notebook. Then, content with himself and his so-called 'productivity', he would stop caring about the topic of the lesson for all the remaining time, which was, usually, more than a half of the class. In fact, I had to admit that I only took his notebook to pretend to be doing something. I wanted to feel like I was prepared to go back to school even though I knew it was impossible. Moreover, I did realise that it wasn't about lectures at all. I desperately wanted to get ready and face the sea of curious looks and overwhelming anxiety, not some stupid classes. And yet, I knew I should have thought about my grades. All in all, I was in my last year and leaving the school for good was one of the few things I dreamed of. I couldn't imagine repeating the year, especially that I would end up on my own again; even though Hidan didn't seem to care about school, his grades weren't too bad; they were decent enough to pass without any major problems. Well, in the end, it made sense; I was the one who was attracting all possible issues.

"Hidan?" I started anxiously, looking at the albino, who turned his head in my direction and hummed, encouraging me to continue. "Rape is an indictable-only offence," I stated bluntly.

Hidan gave me a confused look which made me aware of that not everyone had to know what the term meant; to be honest, it was only a few days ago when I'd seen it for the first time myself. "It means… Rape is a serious crime," I mumbled.

"No shit, I would have never guessed," Hidan grunted.

I decided to try to ignore his sarcastic comment. "Such cases are dealt with in Crown Court." My eyes met his, hoping that he would understand what I meant.

The albino raised his eyebrows; I wasn't sure whether he was confused or decided to neglect my worries.

"Hey, I know that you're worried but we have talked about it so many times. There's no other way. If the case actually gets to the Crown Court, it's almost as if you've already won. And yes, it is serious – it got serious as soon as they assaulted you for the very first time." Hidan seemed calm; there was a tone of a learned patience in his voice and even though I was aware of that it was me who taught him that patience, I didn't, surprisingly, feel any guilt.

"But it means… I mean…" I stuttered. "I'm scared. I don't want to go to court. I don't want to see any of those people."

"Deidara, listen," Hidan looked at me protectively. "One thing I know about the Crown Court is that there's no jury. I would have understood if you had been afraid to be judged by a bunch of random fuckers who have no idea or experience in what they do whatsoever," he started. "But you'll avoid this bullshit in the Crown Court. Besides, the more important the court is, the more serious sentences are in the game," he smirked triumphantly.

"Hidan, this is not a game for me," I stated slowly, weirdly agitated.

"I know, I know," he spat impatiently. "You know what I mean," he added, waiting for my confirmation. I nodded and decided not to talk about that again. As much as I liked and trusted Hidan, he lacked… no, not tact – what was missing was not politeness but subtlety. He could be blunt and cold in a way that was still making me intimidated; and yet, I was aware of that that was how he acted, that was how he dealt with the world around him. I believed everyone had their own method to survive in the universe of ignorance, fleeting feelings and disappearing people. I respected that. I admired that. I wasn't jealous of that – you are not jealous of characteristics that make the person you _love_.

 _Do you believe?_

The first day at school after nearly two weeks was an essence of fear; my usual awkwardness and dismay that used to follow me over the last years suddenly disappeared, making space for another odd sensation: vulnerability. I felt vulnerable sitting there and knowing that the people who had been hurting me for a period that seemed eternity were not behind me anymore? It didn't make any sense, did it? Why would I feel vulnerable if they were not behind me anymore? That was a question that could find the right answer in the eyes of people who had never helped me, who had been watching all of this happening until the very end. I felt their curious looks on my back; sharp like needles, innocent like tentative cuts made with a teenager's very first razor.

Officially, no one knew about the _rape_ ; everyone was aware of the bullying, and the police's earlier presence at school as a part of gathering witnesses was meant to be confidential, but I did not believe no one apart from Hidan and my teachers knew what was going on. All in all, looking for witnesses and building the case was not a simple matter – the police needed to build a profile of sadistic teenagers who were able to continue the abuse for years, and that couldn't be done basing solely on the evidence collected from the crime scene. The evidence would only confirm that one unfortunate rape, and, after my hearing, the police expressed the will to go further than that. I wasn't sure whether I made a good decision agreeing to that but I was too overwhelmed by the officers' presence to disagree. Therefore, they needed witnesses to describe their behaviour, character and usual appearance as well as hobbies to be able to claim that Brendon and his friends were sociopaths. Hence, regardless of what I hoped for, the case was moving forward and there was no coming back; the empty seats behind me were the best proof for that.

However, surprisingly, no one seemed to want to take the piss out of me. Obviously, it could be thanks to Hidan's presence, but the lack of sarcastic smiles appeared to be at the very least odd. The teachers didn't seem to pay much attention to me, either. I had a feeling that my English teacher wanted to talk to me but, in the end, nothing happened – around four in the evening, we were all free to go.

After school, Hidan and I decided to head to my house. Over the last two weeks, we were just popping by to get some of my personal stuff such as clothes and, finally, my laptop. My father still didn't seem to mind; he had been visited by the police multiple times and I was certain that those visits, as well as the further hearings, were not too pleasant even for him. Although I decided not to testify against my father, the policemen remained suspicious of his indifference regarding my well-being. If I were younger, they would have probably try to charge him child neglect but the fact that I was nearly 18 convinced them not to inquire, especially that collecting enough evidence against someone whom I would not try to sue would be nearly impossible. Thus, the only unpleasant disturbance in my father's life was the inquiry itself – I knew he was afraid of what people would say if someone finds out – at the same time, the officers told me that people under 18 were protected by full anonymity and that was the only reason why I agreed to testify in the first place. However, my father did not necessarily have to know about that and I didn't bother to fill him with any additional information. And so, he was simply indifferent – his cold attitude did not comfort me but, at that point in my life, I was happy to give up on changing my situation at home: the dreams of having a loving family have been already buried for over a decade.

When we arrived at my place, my father was not home; obviously, he would not be back any earlier than five in the afternoon. I looked around and noticed a few empty bottles of cider on the kitchen counter and rolled my eyes; if I was home, it would be my responsibility to get rid of them. Alone, my father seemed more carefree and I started wondering whether he was already considering hiring a cleaner.

I opened the door to my room; the dust and lack of fresh air were the undeniable evidence for the lack of human's presence. I was content to observe that; the last thing I wanted was to experience my father throwing away all my stuff and making the newly acquired space his second office. I sighed and sat down on my bed. I fixed my eyes on my canvases left in the corner next to my empty desk. I realised that I hadn't painted in ages. It wasn't like I didn't want to; I simply wasn't able to. I felt as if my creativity faded away or got lost there, in the dusty corner.

"What do you want to take?" Hidan asked.

I shrugged my arms, looking around.

"Do you want to take your artsy stuff, too?" The albino insisted. I stared at him, wondering whether he could actually read in my mind.

"Maybe, yeah… But I'll come back here, won't I? There's no point in making such a hassle about it," I reasoned calmly. Hidan snorted and shook his head.

"Come on, even if, I don't mind," he claimed. "You know you love this," he stated but I felt insistence in his voice, just as if he hoped I would still be able to do what always made me happy - or what I understood as my way of being less miserable than usual.

"Possibly," I muttered. "Seriously, though – I'm gonna be back here soon."

"You're turning 18 soon, too," Hidan teased, crossing his arms. "You can do whatever you want."

"Well, it's not like I have a job and can afford to pay for rent, bills and still have money to live for," I grunted and rolled my eyes. I have never had a job and I couldn't possibly imagine finding one; it wasn't like I didn't want to – I simply didn't feel… _ready_? _Strong enough_? I wasn't sure. I was also afraid of meeting another abuser; a new environment was always a risk, and I already had enough of that in my life.

For some reason, Hidan seemed annoyed. I stood up and opened my wardrobe to find some more clothes that I would take with me. It felt weird, the whole housing transition; I didn't feel like I was a resident in my own house, and yet, I knew that Hidan's place would never be mine, no matter how often Hidan would remind me that I should "make myself home".

 _Never?_

Never.

Never?

Only if you lo-

"What do you think I'm missing out?" I asked after a few long minutes.

"People."

"People?"

"People."

"You always say that people are stupid," I argued.

"I am not stupid," the albino stated.

"It's not what I wa-"

"I know."

"I am so-"

"You're not sorry," Hidan cut in on me.

"You don't understa-"

"Do you?"

"I tr-"

There were not many things that I wanted, there were tens of things I despised, there were hundreds of things I was scared of; losing my words in a kiss burned up a way through them.

* * *

*A-levels – exams at the end of the sixth form

* * *

I know, it's been a while. I had quite a busy period full of holidays, essays and projects. But - yay - I am back with a new chapter and I promise to post the net one sooner.


	18. The cold light of morning

Paralysed, I peered at the albino and timidly dropped my head. My own anxiety was cutting off my air supply and started making me feel nauseous. I felt Hidan's warm hand on my left wrist; my body was oddly tense even though I did not panic. I was aware of what happened and although I did not predict that to occur, a part of me was relieved.

"I'm sorry, Deidara," Hidan said after a while. I realised I was still and silent, probably making the albino more worried that he should have been.

"No," I answered. "It's fine, I…" I hesitated, not sure what to say but I did not want him to apologise to me. It was not that at all. "It's just fine," I repeated, unable to think of anything else to say.

"I know it wasn't right, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that but it's just… I hate pretending that everything's fine as it is when it's not," Hidan continued to account for himself. I could hear he was annoyed but what I did not know was why – was it me, was it the situation? I have always been horrible at taking a guess.

"No, it's fine," I repeated one more time. It was not exactly what I wanted to say but I could not brace myself to say that out loud. No, the kiss was not just fine, it was not just something I could tolerate and forget about. It was way more than that and yet, I could not even say that.

"Wait-", I could feel Hidan's sight focused on me. "You're saying that you don't mind it because you're scared or because you wanted it?"

I looked up at the albino; he seemed worried. He frowned and let go of my wrist, giving me more personal space that I took with gratitude.

"I'm not that scared," I replied after a while. "I'm anxious, and that's a huge difference," I added, trying to smile. It did not quite work but Hidan peered at me with curiosity in his eyes.

"So you're saying…"

"I'm saying it's complicated," I confessed. "And that it didn't feel wrong."

Hidan grinned and I started being jealous of his ease in expressing his feelings. While he seemed more of an open canvas, my feelings were a wild card even for me.

"I just didn't want to make you confused. You just seemed… different. I have no idea whether this is just the way you cope with what's happened or not but you just became… more affectionate. And when you started asking about Maria, you didn't look amused, you know. I'm sorry if I misunderstood you, that's all," Hidan bluntly said.

"So you did that because you pitied me?" I questioned flatly.

"No," Hidan sighed

* * *

Two days before that, Hidan caught me sitting still on the sofa in the middle of the night. The albino was coming back from a pub where he met some of his friends I did not have the privilege to know. While he was out, I could not make myself fall asleep even though I took two extra pills in a desperate attempt to drowse. I sat with my legs folded under and wrapped myself in a duvet. Despite the fact the heating was on for most of the day, I felt disturbingly cold. In fact, I have always been a very cold person but being awake in the middle of the night was always worsening what was already uncomfortable.

After a few hours of trying to calm down my mind and fall asleep, I nearly gave up. It was one more sleepless night I could not stand. Although a few weeks has passed since I woke up in the hospital room, my sleeping issues only got worse. I was desperate realising that even my medicines were letting me down, and a few days resulting in only a few hours of sleep were enough to make me a desperado. That was why Hidan found me there, alone, sitting with an almost empty pack of quetiapine next on the side. He turned the light on and greeted me. I replied quietly and pretended that I just woke up; and no, it did not quite work. My hair was a mess and I did not have any makeup on. I used to have some makeup on even when I was sleeping because I was afraid of people finding out about my bruises. Maybe even I myself needed to be fooled, maybe I also needed to believe the wounds just were not there but only in my mind. I stopped worrying about my makeup only recently, wondering not necessarily whether but when my bruises would reappear on my pale, tired body.

When I looked at the albino with my bloodshot eyes, he did not want to believe me that I was only trying to fall asleep; or so I thought. He glared at the pack of pills and grabbed I before I could even react. He looked at the description specifying the illnesses it was meant to be dealing with. He peered at me once again and hissed, "Deidara! What the hell is this?"

"These are my meds," I answered, trying to maintain cool. "They help me to fall asleep."

"Oh, really? The description says differently,"" Hidan pointed out bitterly. "What were you trying to do with this shit?"

I closed my eyes. "I don't care what the meds are for. Read what are the effects of it. Just read it," I insisted. Annoyingly, I finally started getting sleepy.

"Were you trying to kill yourself?" he inquired, not paying attention to what I had just said.

"No!" I exclaimed desperately. "Please, just read it," I nearly begged him, trying not to cry.

Hidan sat down next to me and took out the small leaflet out of the pack. He read it and glanced at me, then sighed, scrunched up the leaflet and threw it behind the sofa.

"How the hell did you get these?", he asked.

I shrugged. "Internet," I answered simply.

"Why?"

"I have sleeping troubles," I muttered, feeling like a child busted on smoking cigarettes. My drowsiness escalated and I just wanted him to go to his room and forget what he had just seen.

"Couldn't just talk to your GP and ask for some legal meds?" Hidan suggested doubtfully. I shook my head.

"No way," I said promptly. "I know what they are like… They would look at me and said 'you're so skinny', they would look at my hair and my makeup, and they would forget what I had come for. They would call my father and tell him that I was depressed or anorexic, or that I had been taking drugs for years and my insomnia is a part of my inevitable psychosis. They wouldn't help me no matter what I did," I confessed imploringly. "I'm not an adult and I just couldn't take it anymore. Do you have any idea how many nights I spent just praying to fall asleep, even just for a couple of hours? It was just too much, I felt I was going crazy…" I stopped, overwhelmed by my own resentment.

"Okay, okay. I get you," Hidan grunted placing his pale hand on my shoulder. He gave me back the medicines and sighed, sitting next to me. "So, how comes you're not sleeping now?"

"I don't know. Sometimes it happens… No matter what I take and how tired I am, nothing can make me fall asleep… It doesn't happen very often," I continued, "but there are at least a few days every month when nothing works. And I think it only got worse after the last accident," I implied.

"You could have told me earlier," the albino pointed out critically.

"It's not your problem."

"As long as you're my friend and live in this house, yes, unfortunately, it is my problem," he snapped.

I went quiet for a few minutes while Hidan took out his phone; I peeked at his phone and saw a few notifications on the screen; I wondered who were those people who were able to bring him something more than trouble. The albino quickly typed something on his phone and put it back into his pocket. He took off his jacket and left it on the sofa armrest.

"Do you think you might be afraid to fall asleep?", he asked casually.

I hesitated, not sure what to answer. "Sometimes I just have nightmares… at least something that looks like one. When I am falling asleep, sometimes I can see some flashbacks from my past. It's been a reoccurring problem for years but it got seriously worse. Anyway… After one, I just can't make myself fall asleep again."

For some reason, I was being reasonably honest. I've never really talked to anyone about my sleeping problem and even if Hidan was not able to feel what I felt, I believed that he had enough empathy to at least try to understand me.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking at something I could not possibly notice. "Listen, if you want, I can sit here and wait till you fall asleep," he offered. "I don't need that much sleep and you're exhausted."

"No, no way," I denied, shaking my head. "I don't want you to miss sleep because of me. I'll be fine, okay?"

"I'm sure you will but maybe if I stay here, you will get some sleep without a few more hours of panicking?" Hidan reasoned. "I'll just see on the armchair so you know you're not alone. I'll go and rest once you're asleep."

I wanted to refuse and tell Hidan that I was not particularly fond of that idea but, in fact, I needed him to stay. I hoped that maybe if he stayed, I would not be so afraid of letting my body peacefully drown in the darkness. The day when I realised that that Hidan might have been the only person whom I trusted happened weeks ago. The only issue was my anxious mind suggesting that I should not wish for more than a friendship based on mutual respect and platonic one-sided relation.

"Deidara?"

"Sorry, I just… Never mind. I mean… if you are okay to stay for a bit…" I started but Hidan had interrupted me before I managed to finish the sentence.

"You don't need to explain, I said I could stay," he smiled at me. "But don't take any more of those goddamn pills tonight," he added and clung to me unexpectedly. My first impulse reaction was a mindless attempt to push the albino off me, but then I let him hug me, unsure what exactly was not only his but also my own intention.

Since then, something changed – even if only two days has passed, our afternoons spent together seemed warmer, and my sleeping issues appeared to be persistent but more manageable. No, I had no idea who we were – I only knew what I wanted us to be. It looked like I started getting used to living with Hidan, seeing him every day, telling him about what I was afraid of and remaining silent when my anxiety tried to kill off one of my last barriers that protected me from insanity. Unfortunately, I was worryingly scared to come back to my own house at any point; I wondered whether everything could just go back to how it had been before meeting Hidan. I wondered what could happen during the trial, I wondered what could happen if I lost the case, and what if… what if there was no coming back? What if I, in fact, did not have a place to go back to? Quite often, I found myself pondering on when was the time to go back to reality – to my father's house, to school, to being one of Hidan's many friends; and even though Hidan's care should have helped me to prepare for a comeback, I was still feeling vulnerable. I was afraid that I got used to a normal life, and I would not be ready to go back to the old routine that used to kill me on a daily basis. In fact, that was why I was afraid to like Hidan in the first place – I suspected that liking him and getting to spend some time in his world would break me, leaving me in the reality I tried so hard to leave behind. Nevertheless, I failed; I failed on the very first day, letting him come closer and alter what I'd believed to be unchangeable.

* * *

"No?" I echoed him one more time. "So why did you do this?" I asked without even a slight hope for an answer. It was me who was pushing the limits, I knew that; and yet, I just could not ignore the situation any longer.

"Because you used to be my friend. In fact, you were the best friend I've ever had… But you are not one, not anymore," he stated slowly, trying to make eye contact with me while I had a lump in my throat. I did not know what to say so I decided to remain silent. In the end, I was curious what Hidan wanted to say. Would he call me a faggot and laugh at me for getting him to lure me and kiss to prove a point?

Did he find out?

If I really had to say something, I would have told him that I loved him. No matter whether I loved him because of who he was or because of who he was not, I truly did. In an odd and yet genuine way, hoping he would never know about this. Still, there I was, facing my own exposure to feelings that were not supposed to exist.

"Listen, I am going to be fair, and I'm sorry if what I am going to say will freak you out. I hope not."

"Yeah, that's fine," I mumbled, wondering whether I was prepared to hear the truth. Sometimes, in my nightmares, I saw Hidan turning his back on me and joining Brandon, telling me that everything I started to believe in was just an illusion. I discovered that one meeting Hidan triggered a new fear – fear of losing him in every possible meaning of that word. I was not sure whether I should whether I should have treated it as a blessing or curse.

"Okay, so you've probably already realised I'm not the best guy in the world and I'm not super sensitive or thoughtful; either, but I know that there's more to you than being mates. So yeah, I'm not too keen on saying such things but I suppose that's how it gonna be. I love you, okay?"

"You…"

"I've been trying to figure that out for quite a long time, and I just hope you don't mind that. I know that you may think it's unfair, or that I betrayed you, I get that. But even if you don't want to see me anymore, I respect it. It just wanted you to know that."

I felt a choking sensation in my throat, numbly staring at Hidan.

"Listen, it's fine, you don't need to…" Hidan continued, looking tentatively in my direction.

"No, it's…"

"It's fine? Because I have no clue whether this is even close to 'fine', and what 'fine' means to you. I fucked up, right?" he asked as if he did not expect me to reply. "I don't want you to feel like you are obliged to feel something just because you are too ashamed to say 'no'," Hidan said slowly, looking at me with care or irritation. I was not able to tell the difference.

"It's not that. I think I love you too," I said uncertainly. "I don't even know what a real love is. I don't know what a healthy relationship looks like. I've never loved someone to an extent I would trust them unconditionally and I don't know what I am feeling right, okay? I have no idea whatsoever. I just know that you let me live in a world that is easier and safer than my own. And I know that if you hit me, I won't leave you. If you shout at me, I won't leave you. If you tell me I'm nothing, I'll believe you and I'll stay. I don't know if this is love but this is how I feel," I said both resigned and hopeful.

"And I don't know whether this is love, either, but I'll never let myself or anyone else hurt you, do you understand me?"

I nodded, and he kissed me once again; this time, I was not scared and I let my own body trust someone else, even just for a minute.

At the same time, a policeman issues a letter informing me of the date of the first court sitting I had to attend while Brandon's parents were discussing with their attorney the possible line of defence. I should have known that sometimes there are not many things in the world that are more powerful that furious parents protecting their child. Maybe if I knew that, I would have spent that evening worrying and pondering on what was going to happen to me. Nonetheless, I could not know everything, and I believed that could be a blessing. For the first time in years, or maybe for the first time in my life, I let myself forget about everything - _till the cold light of morning_.


	19. What cheers you up, what brings you down

For the first time, I decided to put the notes at the beginning and I have a pretty solid reason for that. This chapter is divided into sequences which present disparate situations in a chronological order. However, the last sequence, despite being chronological in this chapter, will be examined and presented in the first chapter, therefore being not chronological in relation to the chapter that will come after this one.

I also want to say that this is one of the last three or four chapters that are left for this story and I am more than excited to publish them all (and, believe me, I would but I do not want to leave you alone with more than 12k words).

Lastly, I know, Valentine's Day is coming - consider this as a small gift from me.

Now, all I can say is enjoy the chapter and, if you're feeling generous, let me know what you think.

* * *

I woke up early in the morning; I felt exhausted after only a few hours of disturbed sleep. For one night, I decided not to take my pills; I wanted to see whether I really needed them. Of course, deep down, I knew I did; the only reason for my painful trial was Hidan. We stayed up late yesterday, talking, kissing. For once, I felt I could try to fall asleep peacefully, free from medications. Well, obviously, the hope failed; one cannot outwit biology. After years of insomnia cured by pills I was not even meant to have, my body was not able to put me and my hyperactive brain to sleep. I spent most of the night turning from side to side and trying to find a comfortable position. In the end, I resigned myself to my inability to sleep and closed my eyes listening to the muted sounds of the city; that was how I finally fell asleep, only to find myself awake at 5 o'clock in the morning.

I had more than enough time to prepare myself to school. It felt weird to know that me and Hidan got together after around five months of our friendship. I felt surreal that because of all other things happening simultaneously we did not have much time to think. Feelings were superseded by fears and fears were smothered by actions; I was left with anxieties, fears, needs and questions that could not be answered by my beloved numb awaiting. The only thing I did not anticipate was the fact that Hidan's mentality was completely different to mine. When I was confused, he was making up his mind, and when I was scared, he was already filled with anger. I supposed that was why he kissed me when I already gave up on people and feelings. When I was about to give up, he already knew he had to be there _not to let me fall_.

Once the sun started slowly rising and filling the living room with sheer daylight, I turned off the light and started picking my clothes. I noticed that I have been unconsciously avoiding colours other than black and white, predominantly black. Personally, I did not mind colours; I was an artist, overall, or at least that was what I thought. My problem with adapting colours to something else than a piece of paper was, however, difficult; it seemed provocatively fake or pretentious, like my hair or my body. Attracting attention by the use of colours was not what I needed, and if I had to be looked at, I wanted to show simplicity, more or less disheartening.

After a few minutes, I heard Hidan's alarm going off. The albino absolutely hated waking up in the morning and having his as my flatmate made me realise how many alarms he has to set to be able to wake up in time for school; and if he would finally manage to wake up, he would only wait for the weekend to be able to sleep until the afternoon hours. In the meantime, I would manage to wake up, take a shower, drink a couple of cups of coffee and go back to bed after realising that it was still early morning.

The door opened;

"Morning," I said.

"Mph..." Hidan muttered and loudly shut the bathroom door. I chuckled and continued to try to decide what to wear. Then, I quickly changed and started doing makeup. It was a peculiarly weird feeling to observe my own face free from fresh bruises. I still had a bruise on my cheek but it did not take long to make it disappear under a layer of powder.

"So, is it true? You are living together now?" Jordan asked, smirking. I haven't talked to him in ages and realised he could have thought more than he appeared to.

"Yes, man," Hidan rolled his eyes.

"It's getting big, isn't it? I mean, Brandon," he continued. "It's gonna get massive if he or Kyle gets convicted!" He said, clearly excited. "This fucking school is going to go bankrupt, I tell you. No one's gonna come here if people know this is a fucking madhouse."

"Fuck off, Jordan, this is more than that," Hidan cut in. "Don't get too excited. If you want drama, go and find yourself a girlfriend and be as annoying as you are now. We'll see how long you long you'll survive."

"No offence, man," Jordan raised his hands.

"Come on, let's go to class," I mumbled, passing Jordan to open the class door.

"Chill, Deidara, it's all good," I heard him saying but I decided not to react to that. It irritated me that people knew what was going on. Even though the newspapers kept my anonymity*, it seemed as if everyone knew each other and keeping any kind of secret, especially such a big one, was nearly impossible.

"Just fuck off, okay?" Hidan hissed defensively, still glaring at Jordan. They used to be friends; I hoped it was not me who changed that.

Once the class started, our teacher started talking about A-levels. Mrs Sandmark focused on how important the exams are and encouraged us to "thing about our future" and going to a university. I knew I did not want to go to the university, that was out of the question. Of course, I was unsure about my future but I did not suppose engaging in one more compulsory thing in my life would change anything for better. Three more years of study, three more years of avoiding immature people, three more years of being judged by everyone, both teachers and other students. Even though I did not want to go to work straight after school, the university did not seem the way to go. And so, I felt lucky when Mrs Sandmark told us we would not have to tell her what we were planning to do in the future. Apart from attending the trial and sticking to Hidan, I had nothing to offer. I started wondering what Hidan would like to do in the future. For some reason, we have never got to talk about that – probably because I have always had issues which seemed more urgent than that. I promised myself to ask Hidan about his plans for the future as soon as the lesson would finish.

"You seem off," Hidan noticed while we were standing outside the school.

"Just worried," I replied. "Exams, trial, and now thinking about my future. I don't want any of that," I tried to joke.

"What, are you talking about the lesson? Oh, come on, don't worry about it. It's not like we have to make up our mind today. Just chill," he said carelessly.

"Do you know what you want to do in the future?" I continued, ignoring Hidan's annoyed sigh.

"Yeah. I'll probably move out of this flat… I don't know, maybe I'll get a job, or go to the university. You can do either the one or the other." The albino's skin seemed to infuse with the coldly grey sky. It was freezing cold and I felt my hands going numb but I did not want to go back into the building where more people could start asking me questions and give me inquisitive looks.

"Move out?" I asked shallowly.

"Yeah, probably. I don't want to stay here, I would rather move to London, especially if I'm going to go to uni or get a job. I hate this town," he added.

"What would you study at uni, anyway?" I inquired, intrigued.

"Medicine, that would be the dream… I've always wanted to be a surgeon but… no chances I'm getting there. Maybe Criminology … No, no idea," he sighed. To me, that was like a sting in my heart; _how did it happen I didn't know of any of this?_

I raised my eyebrows. "Wow, I didn't even know you were that interested in medicine. That's pretty amazing, you know? You should try," I smiled.

Hidan beamed and kissed me on the lips. Somehow, it was slow and comforting in a way words would never be. His hand rested below my ear, his thumb caressing my cheek as our breaths mingled. Oh, yes, that was another reason why we preferred to stay outside the school.

"Maybe I will," he answered after a while. "It doesn't mean I'm leaving you here, though," he added as if he could feel my concern. "You're not getting rid of me any time soon, chin up," Hidan grinned and put a hood over his head.

"Be careful, I'll remember that." Hidan took my hand and slightly squeezed it. "We should go back to school," I said.

Two days later, the bomb has been planted. I got a call from the police saying that the court has set the date of the first trial. The officer filled me in with more details regarding the case, such as who will be interviewed during the first court sitting, and if I had to face the defendants. It turned out it was not compulsory; however, the policeman strongly advised me to turn up in court. Apparently, it had something to do with liability and ability to protect myself. Confused, I called Hidan. He was out with Maria at the time; they were looking for a present for Norbert's birthday. Hidan wanted me to join them but I said I did not feel like leaving the house. Norbert was Jordan's friend so even though we did not argue, there was a tension between us after the last school encounter.

"Hey, what are you up to now?" I asked once Hidan picked up the phone.

"Not much, really, we've already chosen the gift. I mean, Maria did," he rectified. "We just got him a bottle of absinth, he'd better like it."

"Do you doubt it? Don't you dare!" I heard Maria laughing in the background.

"I'm sure he will," I paused. "When are you coming home then?"

"Anytime. Has anything happened?" Hidan inquired.

"Nah, not really. I just wonder if we could talk," I hesitated, hoping the albino would not freak out. As much as 'we need to talk' was a cliché, it was the only thing that came to my mind at that time.

"Sure. The weather is shit anyway, my ass is freezing and it's been raining, like, forever," he said in response. "I'll see you soon then."

"Yeah, thanks. See you," I touched the red icon to end the conversation and threw my phone on the bed. I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of drops of rain hitting the windows.

"Damn, it's cold. It's so fucking cold," Hidan complained as he quickly closed the front door. "I hate this fucking weather. Anyway, what's up?"

"There is a trial."

Hidan gave me a confused look. The albino only took off his jacket and left it on the sofa. Waiting for him to come home made me annoyingly impatient and I could not let myself wait any longer. "Well, that's nothing new, you know..."

"There is a trial, like, for real. They agreed on a date. The case is going to trial," I repeated, peering at him. I sat down on the carpet, crossing my legs and combed my hair.

"You mean...?" Hidan crouched down and sat opposite me. His white hair was wet and messy as the albino did not manage to avoid the rain. Drops of water were running down his pale face, making him look somewhat exhausted.

"Yeah. The police successfully charged Brandon and Kyle with multiple rapes. Brandon has also been charged with attempted homicide, and Kyle, Casey and Fabian are only charged with battery."

"What penalty are they facing?" Hidan asked.

"Theoretically, Brandon is looking at 35 years," Deidara hissed. "But I know it's not happening. In fact, I don't even think it's likely he will go to jail. Anyway... Kyle faces the possibility of up to 21 years, Casey and Fabian one year each."

Hidan raised his eyebrows. "Only one year?"

"The police could not find any evidence they had raped me before. I've never reported it, I've never done a rape kit, they have nothing on them. Besides, their lawyers are probably going to argue that they have either been manipulated by Brandon or that never done it in the first place. It's up to them to figure out what they do, they might want to cut a deal or even stick to one story they would repeat as long as the judge would need to believe them," I responded bitterly, revealing one of my biggest fears. I was alone. Well, I did not need a lawyer myself, of course, but I was still on my own. Against them. Against their friends, their parents, their lawyers, against everyone who knew and liked them, and who could not imagine those decent lads doing such things.

"Or, for once, they could actually realise how it is like to lose everything," Hidan added. His casual tone nearly made me laugh. I shrugged.

"I'm not sure about that."

"Stop worrying about it just now," Hidan snarled. "You are the victim. None of that was your fault and you can't go to court thinking that you're the defendant. You are suing them, not defending yourself!"

"But what if they..." I started.

"What?" Hidan asked, for the first time looking actually concerned.

"What if the lawyer will somehow know about my father?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"I told you... I didn't mention that my father has been beating me. If they somehow are going to know about it and it comes out, no one is going to believe not just my words, but no one will believe that if was a bunch of lads who were responsible for the assault. If this comes out, they may start another trial, against my father, and the rest will..."

"Hey, wait," Hidan interrupted. "You didn't even mention that your father has been beating you?"

"No," I replied quietly. "Why?"

"I thought you wanted to end all of this," the albino said. His voice seemed colder than before and this observation planted another kind of fear in my heart. "And instead of doing so, you tell one thing and hide ten others," Hidan added. I felt his eyes burning a mark on my skin but I could not brace myself to look at him. I felt stupid and the only thing that I held to while trying not to cry was that crying would make me feel even more embarrassed.

"Hey, look at me," Hidan's voice turned into a little bit softer request. "Why didn't you want to tell the police about everything? You wouldn't have to worry about anyone else finding out about what you've left out and what you haven't."

"It's not that easy," I mumbled. "Sometimes there are things that no one can fix. At some point, the situation gets so complicated you know you can't do everything you want, and not everyone can get justice. I don't know much about life but I am aware of what I can't know and what I can't get," I continued, still avoiding Hidan's gaze. "Nothing good could come out of me trying to fight everyone. Who knows, maybe my father would be sent to jail. But what then? What would happen to the house? To all my stuff, to me? To my dead mother's things? You can't always fix everything. At least _I_ can't."

Hidan sighed, slightly shifting his body to then lock me in a loose but firm embrace. I rested my head on his chest and closed my eyes. I felt tired of trying to predict what could happen to me in the foreseeable future; it was like choosing the best of the worst possible variables and even though I knew I should have felt grateful for the changes that occurred in my life, the only one that I truly appreciated was the bond that me and Hidan managed to establish between us. The rest? It was difficult to stay positive when, on top of dealing with trials, school and still painfully hurt body, I had to face the perspective of living with PTSD, anxiety, depression and insomnia.

"I didn't mean to say you made a mistake. Maybe you're right and maybe you not everyone can always get what they deserve, I get that. Your father is a nasty piece of shit but maybe spending the rest of his life in jail wouldn't help you. Okay," he reasoned. "But then stop worrying about that and let the judge focus on that bunch of fucking psychos as they're the ones who you are going to confront in court. Don't think about things you can't or don't want to change. I'm sure it annoys you even more than me."

"It's stupid, I know. What I say usually makes no sense," I said grumpily.

"Pff, come on," Hidan snorted with laughter. "Don't say that. So, when is the trial?"

"10th of December," I replied.

"Good. You know I'll be there with you, yeah?"

I nodded. "You agreed to testify in this case, so they probably already sent you a letter."

Hidan pulled me closer and brushed away my hair from my face. "I can't fucking wait."

"I just hope it's not going to drag for too long."

Hidan stretched his arms and put his palms behind his head.

"Come on, the evidence says it all. There's no way the judge will have any doubts they're guilty."

"I'll believe once I hear it," I reasoned.

"You'll be fine, Deidara," Hidan sighed and shook his head. "What possibly could go wrong? They're done, can you hear me? _Done_."

"Anyway, I really can't miss out too many classes. How am I even supposed to pass A-levels this year? I have been absent more often than present at school, I'm fucked."

"Don't get me started on this once again. Dei, for once, just chill," Hidan imploringly. "If you need to worry about something, think of where the hell I should find a suit for the whole trial so I don't look like a criminal myself."

I snorted with laughter and shook my head disapprovingly.

There were three people waiting in one of the offices at the police station. The building gave the impression of being incredibly busy, filled with officers preoccupied with work. However, the office itself seemed detached from the overwhelming chaos.

"He's dead. His body was found today morning."

"What do you mean _'he's dead'_!?"

"It looks like he hung himself. It was too late to do anything." The man replied firmly; his voice lacked empathy and his eyes seemed to avoid anyone's sight, gazing into the abyss. "I am aware of that you may feel guilty but… I just advise you to stay out of it. It was not your fault."

"He's dead," one of the men repeated.

"And you are alive. All you can do is focus on your own life."

* * *

*under the British law, all rape victims are granted anonymity unless they agree to reveal their identity.


	20. That's what people do

At the beginning, I must signpost that to understand this chapter, you need to read the previous one. Otherwise, you won't know what is going on, not to mention getting the ending right. Apart from that, enjoy the chapter - there's only one more left for this story! Thank you.

* * *

 _Two weeks earlier_

"I am so nervous," I repeated once again. I knew I had probably repeated the same sentence over ten times already but I just could not help it.

I nervously straightened my tie and took a deep breath.

"Don't worry, everything will be fine," Hidan tried to calm me down. He put his hand on my shoulder and held it firmly as if he tried to protect me even from my own thoughts.

"How long do we have to wait?" I asked even though I had already asked the same question earlier, too.

"The trial starts at 11 am, you know that," Hidan replied impatiently. "Asking about it every 5 minutes won't change it," he reminded me.

"You're right, I'm sorry," I sighed.

"Remember that you are the accuser, not the defendant," the albino added.

"I am not an accuser, I am a victim," I murmured. "There's a big difference between accusing someone and being the one who's hurt," I added bitterly. Hidan did not say a word; instead, he peered at his watch and moved his palm from my shoulder to hold my hand.

Finally, the time has come. Shortly before 11, Brandon arrived, too. He was surrounded by his parents as well as his lawyer. Once he acknowledged me, he gave me a sharp look and smirked. I immediately looked down; I noticed he has changed, though. His usually ruddy face seemed pale and skinner. His messy brown hair was neatly styled and he wore an expensively looking black suit and shoes. I had to say, he looked good; I thought he could have said he was going to get married and I would believe him just by looking at his clothes.

I could sense Hidan's body tensed. He subtly raised his head and glared at him ominously. I squeezed his hand warningly and stepped back. I felt Brandon's look on me and I hardly stopped myself from shivering. Seeing him standing a few meters away from me made realise how easily he could hurt me again. Only a few more steps and he would have me for himself again; feeling safe was an illusion – maybe my hope for freedom was as tantalising as the distance between us two.

"Deidara," he said provocatively.

"Back off," Hidan growled, sizing him up.

"Don't look at him," I heard a calm yet cold. It was the policeman who lead my case; I was glad he was there – if he and Hidan were not there, I would have felt as if I was the one needed a lawyer. I nodded and focused my sight on the ground. My father obviously was not there with me; in fact, he has not tried to contact me since I temporarily moved out. Apart from the few occasions where me and Hidan would come back to take more of my belongings, we would not even look at each other. It was no surprise then he would not come to support me in court; I even supposed he would rather have me removed from his family.

Luckily, Brandon's parents took care of their beloved only-child, making sure he would not behave inappropriately just before the trial. I wish they cared about it years before the day when their son has been held arrested and held in custody.

A few minutes later, the trial has begun. I sat on a bench next to a representative of police. I felt weird being there alone; as Hidan was a witness in the trial, he was directed to a different side of the courtroom. I quickly peered at him before the judge has started the trial; he was looking at me with a straight face but then cracked a smile – the kind of a smile that could always make me certain he had something on his mind, and he had a damn good reason for it.

Once my representative introduced the case, the court hearing started.

Brandon's attorney whom I saw earlier stood up and walked up to the judge, where the curious crowd behind her could also listen in. "My client has accused of assaulting and raping Deidara Iwaga." He paused to look at Brandon and then continued even louder. "Although he is innocent." The crowd behind her gasped. "Until proven guilty," He continued. "Mr Maclaren can confirm that."

The judge advised Brandon to stand up and make a plea.

 _"Not guilty."_

Of course, I thought. While Brandon was confidently his version of the story, I was meticulously analysing the fabric my suit was made of.

"Well then, we can start now."

"He has been teasing me for years," Brandon said scornfully. "I thought we were mates but then he changed his mind. He started behaving differently – who knows how he has been raised," Brandon claimed.

"Please, describe what happened on 12th of November," the judge inquired coldly.

"On that day… Me, Kyle, Casey and Fabian left school. We were hanging out at my place when I got a text from Deidara," he unexpectedly beckoned to me. My eyes widened as I gazed at him with disbelief. "He texted me saying he wanted to meet me. At that point, me and Deidara were… well, it's complicated," he said.

"Please, you have a chance to explain it to us," the judge's voice echoed.

"Well… Me and Deidara used to be together," he said finally. My eyes widened; I took a deep breath but I could not do anything but stare at Brandon, who suddenly appeared to regain confidence. "Yeah, I mean… At the beginning of school, when we met up, we weren't enemies at all. We started hanging out. It was nice, I must say, he seemed quite cool, we had no issues," Brandon shrugged. "But then Deidara… If anyone knew Deidara as well as I do, they would see what kind of a person he is. He's very clingy. He has issues, a lot of them. We lasted a few months – Deidara was always jealous, or paranoid, he was acting as if he was doing drugs. Mood swings, arguing and… his father is just…" Brandon shook his head.

I was paralysed; I was not even sure whether my mind was actually transmitting all his words. I was afraid to move, I was afraid to look at anyone. I suddenly started feeling nauseous, and I could feel my face losing all its colour. I could not believe what I heard – _how could he even come up with such a line of defence?_ It was disgusting. Purely disgusting… but could it be effective?

"His father is just weird. I don't know what was going on but you could tell something was wrong. I didn't want to have any troubles so we broke up. He wasn't too happy about it," Brandon unexpectedly looked me in the eyes. "We started arguing and he told me he would find a way to bring me down one day. I told him to take it easy but he's always been weird to me since then. Always trying to make me and my friends look like monsters. And yes, well done, Deidara," he turned to me, "you made it to the court. Happy?"

I opened my mouth in a vague attempt to react but I was not able to say anything; I did not even think Brandon expected me to answer. I peered at my counsel; the man seemed calm. He was not looking at me; his arms were crossed, his sight fixated on the judge.

"If you claim that is the truth, how can you explain your DNA on the victim's body?"

"As I told you, on that day, he texted me saying he wanted to meet up. I didn't want to face him on my own, I was with my mates, anyway. So we went there together. When he turned up, he looked as if someone beat him up. I asked him what he wanted but he wouldn't answer… Instead, he started mumbling he's been missing me, and he…"

"There has been no evidence showing the victim had been drugged? The police also haven't found any other evidence for that the victim was assaulted by someone else on that night," my counsel stated firmly.

"Mr Levinsky, let the defendant speak," the judge replied. "There will be time for questioning." The judge turned his head to Brandon and encouraged him with a simple, "continue."

"He was acting weird. He started telling me how much he missed me and how much he wanted us to be together again. I told him to leave me alone but he wouldn't listen. I was annoyed and yes, I punched him. I warned him that I would do it again if he tries to come up to me once more. Then he got angry and started swearing at me. I punched him again… He fell, yeah. If I broke his ribs, I am accountable for it but I have never tried to assault him, I was just defending myself… I've never tried to kill him or anything… And I didn't rape him."

I was not certain whether there were whispers in my head or people in the courtroom started gossiping. I felt like I was about to vomit; I knew I should not have come to the trial. I was not obliged to attend the court hearing but I hoped to see Brandon failing, for once. I could not believe I was so stupid to ever believe I could be stronger than he.

"Then how can you explain the evidence confirming it?"

"Objection," Brandon's lawyer promptly interrupted. The middle-aged man had healthily ruddy face and light brown hair, but his azure eyes together with a well-cut grey suit made him look bot inaccessible and credible; there was a peculiar sort of impregnable trust one could have in him just by looking in his face. "The evidence confirms a sexual encounter, not a rape."

"So, now, are we going to hear how the victim was just asking for it, too? Just like for all the punches?"

"Quiet," the judge interrupted. "We are in a court."

* * *

"Hidan Yuga, can you confirm your name, age and address?"

"My name is Hidan Yuga, I'm 19 and live on Abercorn Road."

"What's your relationship with the victim and the defendant?"

"Deidara is my partner. We both go to the same class as Brandon," he replied coldly.

"You appear to be the person who found Deidara and called the ambulance."

Hidan nodded, "yeah."

"On that evening… Describe what you saw. From the very beginning – can you tell us how you ended up in that park? How did you find the victim?"

"Right…" Hidan sighed. He clenched his fists and fixed his sight on Brandon. "I was home when I got a text from Brandon. Well, he sent me a picture of Deidara. In that picture that I then showed to the police, Deidara was unconscious and seemed heavily injured. He had blood on his clothes and body. Brandon told me that I can keep him for myself if I felt like it, and I could take him from that park. That's how I ended up there," he finished and shrugged his arms.

"Have you actually seen the defendant at the crime scene, assaulting the victim?"

"No, but…"

"I take it as a no," the lawyer interrupted him.

"Yes, but he did send me that picture and he wouldn't have it if he wasn't there."

"You answer my questions, not yours, Mr Yuga."

"I…" Hidan started with frustration in his voice but the lawyer interrupted him,

"What about any other assault? Have you personally witnessed anything?"

"Yes, I have, many times. Even when I joined the class at the beginning of this year, Brandon asked me if I wanted to play around with his doll, and, yes, he was referring to Deidara," he added. "When I said no, he's never mentioned that to me again but I have seen what he's been doing to Deidara on many occasions."

"Have you ever reacted to it? Obviously, if you're saying he was hurting your friend…"

"Yes, I punched him a few times. I didn't do much, all I did was just to make him stop hurting Deidara. I didn't intend to hurt him, just make him go away." At that point, I knew Hidan was not telling the truth. Of course, he wanted to hurt Brandon. He admitted that he would like to see him dead and I knew I had to believe him on that. There was just something in his eyes that made me aware of how much he was happy to do just for the sake of saving me, and I was still glad he did not – I would never forgive myself to bring him down.

"I see… As you are obviously close with the victim… Didn't you want to make my client pay? If he was actually making fun out of your beloved one, wouldn't it be nice to watch him pay for it? In a court, for example? Accusing him of something he didn't do?" He cracked a smile.

"Objection, irrelevant!", I heard my defender's outright voice.

"Sustained," the judge counterpunched.

"No," Hidan hissed.

"No?"

"No," Hidan said once again. "I believe in karma," he smirked.

* * *

 _"Deidara?" Hidan kissed my forehead and pulled me closer. I accepted his touch and inhaled the air filled with his soft jasmine scent. I was horribly cold; we just came home and the temperature outside made my skin turn painfully grey-blue. I let the warmth capture my body and made myself comfortable in Hidan's embrace._

 _"I love you," I murmured._

 _"I love you, too."_

* * *

"What's your name?"

"Maria Scrivens, 18 and I live on Hackney Road." The girl was dressed up in a simple black dress; it was a novelty to see her so humble. Even her usually uncontrollable hair seemed neat on that day. Her pink hair was tied up in a bun

"How are you related to the defendant and the victim?"

"Classmates," she replied simply.

"What can you tell us about the relationship between the defendant and the victim?"

"Well… They are in the same class, that's it," she mumbled.

"You did not understand my question, Ms Scrivens," the judge replied. "What is the nature of their relationship? Are they friends, enemies, do they usually fight? How does it look like to you, a bystander?" He inquired.

"Well…" Maria quickly peered at me and rolled her eyes. "They are not best friends. I mean, yeah, they argue. They've always been arguing," she said eventually. "Or maybe not necessarily arguing. Brandon has been picking on Deidara," she rectified and dropped her head. I assumed she did not want to confront Brandon.

"What do you mean by saying the defendant has been 'picking' on him?"

"He's been taking the piss out of him all the time, teasing him, that sort of stuff. I haven't seen him hurting Deidara physically but I've heard things, too," she admitted.

"Continue," the judge coldly encouraged Maria.

"He would boast nearly every other day how he'd beaten him up. I've never seen him doing it and I've never seen bruises on Deidara but… after 3 years, you know it wasn't just faking," she added.

"How comes you know that if you've never seen them assaulting the victim?"

"I mean, I…", she hesitated. "Yeah, I've never seen them beating him to the extent that made us all come here but… I mean, everyone saw them pushing Deidara from time to time, threatening him, throwing his things around…"

"But you and the other students who witnessed that all failed to report that to someone in charge?"

Maria's face slightly turned red. "I… It wasn't my business, okay? Deidara has never asked for anyone's help. I didn't want to be a snitch," she stuttered defensively.

"I see. Let's focus on Deidara then – how would you describe his usual behaviour?

"He seemed… normal. He didn't seem to have too many friends. He was more of a lonely type."

"What about relationships?", the lawyer inquired.

"Only Hidan. I haven't seen him with anyone else," she shook her head.

"What about Brandon?"

"Brandon, you mean… with Deidara? No, never," she nearly laughed, as if even the idea of me and Brandon together was more than ridiculous. "They hated each other. No way they would even get together," she repeated.

"Let's talk about the day of the incident. Were Deidara and Brandon at school on that day?"

"Yeah… Yeah, they were," she replied on second thoughts.

"Did any of them acted unusually?"

"No," Maria shook her head. "Brandon seemed pissed but he often is," she implied.

"Did he mention why?"

"No, I haven't really spoken to him on that day."

"How did you find out about the incident in the first place? Has Brandon sent you any photographs?"

"No. I found out the next day at school, Hidan mentioned Deidara was hurt. Then it just came out."

"Thank you. Any more questions for the witness? "

"No," Brandon's lawyer answered.

"No," my counsel agreed.

"If there are no more questions for the witness, you can sit down, thank you," the judge stated. Maria nodded and quickly left the pedestal.

* * *

 _"I hate myself."_

 _"Then how can you love anyone else?_

 _"I_ _don't really know."_

 _"Maybe I should just let you find out, then."_

* * *

"Deidara, it may seem like no one believes you, yes. But you have to trust me, the deal is clear – Brandon is a defendant, and every defendant is innocent until proven guilty. At the moment, he is innocent, and everyone's job is to prove his guilt. Hence the questioning, the time it is taking, the lack of clarity. The court has to out rule every single theory that would let Brandon walk free. Do you understand it?"

I nodded without saying a word. Well, I wanted to think he was right and this is how that was going to be.

"But why all I hear is people proving there's not enough evidence to convict him?" I asked bitterly.

"No one's ever said that there's not enough evidence to convict him. Yes, the evidence is limited but the case is solid. I would have told you otherwise," the counsel insisted. "You have to be patient."

"For how long?" I inquired not even trying to hide my irritation.

"Till the end of the trial, Deidara. Till the end of the trial."

* * *

 _"I'm tired," I cried, sitting on the floor in Hidan's bathroom._

 _"Deidara, come on… I know you are," I heard Hidan's voice coming from the living room._

 _"Please, let me be alone for a moment," I shouted, hiding my red face in my hands. I grabbed a glass toothbrush mug and threw it at the door. I watched the mug turning into tiny pieces dropping on the floor. I wish it was not the mug but my own head._

 _"Don't you dare, Deidara," Hidan growled. "Don't you fucking dare to do anything to yourself, Deidara," he repeated. "I don't fucking care if I'll have to break the door or call the fucking police again. Do you think it's only your decision? Well, it's not! It hasn't been your decision since the day you met me. I'm not letting you hurt yourself."_

 _"Leave me alone, it's pointless anyway," I snarled. "Of course, I can't even kill myself, right? And if I try, it will be me who will be going to jail, right? That's how it always is!" I could not stop crying. I did want to end it. After a week spent mostly in court, I was exhausted. The trial was not going anywhere, and it only made me feel guilty about telling the police about the assault in the first place. I felt like every single day was bringing new evidence for that it was me who was guilty and there were hundreds of things I could have done to avoid what happened._

 _Hidan did not respond. I was not even sure if he was still listening. I greeted the silence with gratitude. I closed my eyes and lay down on the floor. My burning forehead touched the cold bathroom tiles, bringing me relief. I wished I could stay like that forever._

* * *

"The police have provided the court with re-examined evidence placing the defendant at the crime scene," the judge started. "Mr Daley," he turned to my counsel. "Please, present the evidence."

"The police have provided the court with re-examined evidence placing the defendant at the crime scene," the judge started. "Mr Daley," he turned to my counsel. "Please, present the evidence."

"Mr Maclaren's phone has been re-examined. The police have retrieved the history of deleted photographs and text proving the defendant did take those pictures at the time of the assault. Moreover, the officers have discovered threatening texts sent to the victim… Let me quote one of them: _'You think you can avoid me, bitch? We'll see tomorrow when I take you like a whore._ ' Or maybe this one: " _Out with Hidan again. If he knew what I make you do, you wouldn't have anyone._ "

"Kids send all sorts of text, not always meaning it," the lawyer passed off.

"What about the pictures? Lord Justice, you can see the pictures from both the crime scene and from the hospital where the victim was held after the incident. The injuries are coherent with the defendant's bruises – we found Deidara's DNA under the defendant fingernails, not to mention the defendant's semen on the victim's body. I believe that this, together with the threatening pictures and witnesses' testimonies, proves the defendant not only spontaneously attacked the victim; he planned it, just like he has managed to abuse the victim over years," the defender took a deep breath. "Being a teenager is not easy, especially if you are a class scapegoat. You are afraid to speak up or report anything because you do not even believe that you have not done anything wrong. You think that you're weak and you get just what you deserve. It is not easy to break off the silence and ask for help, and it is not any easier to even think of trying to prove to someone that you are telling the truth. What we see here is the reason why abused teenagers do not come forward very often; it is a tremendous effort to, first, admit that you are hurt and, second, confront not only your abuser but also all those other people who can hear, can look, can talk, can judge. It is a matter of admitting to something that many consider a weakness even though it is nothing but a proof of strength."

I looked at him, not sure how to react to what he said. His words seemed surreal, being the very first thing that made me feel it was a good decision to show up in the court in the first place.

"As today this case is finally coming to an end, everyone can see not only the defendant's guilt but also the difficulty every victim has to face when coming forward. Today, I do not indent to ask for attention, I do not even ask the defendant to show remorse. I know he won't do this, as he has not ever done either in this court or anywhere else. All I ask the judge for is a fair sentence that will proof that it is, indeed, worth it – it is worth it to speak up."

"Thank you, Mr Daley," the judge said. "Mr Maclaren?"

Brandon stood up. His face seemed thinner and paler than a week ago when he firstly showed up in the court. He did not look at anyone; he appeared to gaze at an unidentified object somewhere near the exit door.

"Mr Maclaren? Do you wish to say anything?"

"I… Yes," he mumbled. "I want to say that I have nothing to apologise for. I am innocent, and I hope for a righteous ruling," he added with determination in his voice.

"Thank you, Mr Maclaren."

* * *

"We have now reached the verdict. Of the case of Brandon vs. Deidara, for the first-degree rape, we find the defendant guilty. For the attempted murder, we find the defendant not guilty. For the battery, we find the defendant guilty."

"It is time." The judge said this statement with finality. "I will now pass sentence of the verdict. I sentence Brandon Maclaren to 20 years in prison, with a chance of parole after 17 years of service."

People in the courtroom started whispering. I glanced at Brandon, shocked. For the first time, he seemed dumbfounded.

"All rise," the judge commanded. "The sentence has been reduced due to the defendant's age. The defendant is young and, as everyone, has a chance to change. However, the only reason why the defendant has not been charged with an attempted murder is the lack of evidence that would prove the nature of the assault. It is also impossible to consider the previous physical assaults mentioned by both the witnesses and the defender. In court, we do not make assumptions; we look at the evidence and consider crimes that can be proved. As much as the rape and physical assault together with threats have been found plausible, the court has no power over the insufficient evidence. However, what has been achieved today should make it easier for the victim to heal, regain strength and move forward. I also believe in Mr Maclaren. It is deeply dismaying how much evil one can do solely because of what the other one cannot do. I hope Mr Maclaren will reconsider his life and will find a way to change and become a better citizen, a better son, a better friend and a better human being."

I heard someone crying. I turned around and noticed Brandon's mother weeping, holding her husband's hand.

"The court is now adjourned."

I watched closely as the policeman put handcuffs on Brandon and took him away.

I was shamelessly staring at him, not sure whether I wanted him to face me. The distance between seemed safe and I was supposed to believe I would not have to see him, or to be afraid of him, for at least 17 years. Various people started approaching me to congratulate me; I supposed I was meant to look happy and victorious but I was, first and foremost, overwhelmingly confused. I was surprised to see Maria and some other classmates coming up to me and telling me how glad they were I got justice; well, I did not get justice. I got a revenge.

Finally, I felt Hidan's hand on my shoulder.

"Do you want to talk to him before he gets sent to prison?"

"I... No. Not now," I answered.

"Well... So, we're going home," he simply announced.

"Yes, we are," I nodded in agreement.

When we left the courtroom, I heard someone calling me. I expected it to be my counsel but the voice was different; I looked back and saw Brandon's father approaching me with anger in his eyes.

"How dare you? My son, prison? How could you even do that?" He spat, getting dangerously close to me.

"Any problem?" Hidan hissed, straightening up defensively.

" _He_ is my problem," the older man nearly cried. "You, he, all of you! It's not my son's fault you don't even know how to defend yourself!" he drawled.

"Mr Macleran, please, stand back," a police officer requested, brushing Brandon's father aside.

"I didn't do anything," I whispered and turned around. "Let's go," I told Hidan who clearly needed to be reminded a court was not a place for a fight.

"I can..."

"Come on, let's go," I repeated and forced a tiny smile, looking forward toleave the building.

* * *

The following days seemed odd. Once Brandon's trial ended, Kyle, Casey and Fabian were awaiting their turn. My counsel told me I did not have to attend the other trials if I did not want to. Well, in fact, I did not even have to attend Brandon's trial but, apparently, it was advised for me to do so on grounds on credibility. Now, once the evidence has been proven credible and Brandon got sent to jail, I did not have to go through all of this once again or, rather, three more times.

I could sense a difference between the time before and after the trial; although I was not certain what to expect, I felt both tense and calm at the same time. I did not fear Brandon that much anymore, as I knew he was locked up. The only thing that was filling me with fear was the overall lack of serenity and my usual problems. A police therapist did tell me my trauma would not go away, and healing was a long process. However, a very naive part of me hoped for a permanent peace of mind. I was aware of that Hidan knew that was the case. I was more than grateful to spend as much time as I could with him, no matter whether we were home or anywhere else. At that time, I have not come back to school yet, very much aware of my poor situation and dim chances for satisfying results.

My sleep did not get better; I was still on my pills. I promised Hidan to go to a specialist and ask for some real sleeping pills instead of some black market meds for schizophrenia but I could not do everything at once, and I hoped Hidan would understand me; in fact, he usually did.

I could not be more grateful for his patience and tenderness I would never even expect from him, especially at the time when I was hurting not only myself but also him. There were moments between the trial when I wanted to kill myself, frustrated with the lack of results and the burden of guilt implied by Brandon's lawyer. And yet, we both made it. Hidan told me to start seeing a therapist and I knew I would need to take it into consideration - just not right away, not yet.

The days that we could spend being together were my favourite times of my life. As much as I used not to believe it, those days made my life worth living - at least that was why I hoped for. I enjoyed small moments; kissing, getting drunk, listening to music. I was even considering starting to paint again; painting was one of my many hobbies that my own fear devoured over the last 6 months. I did want it back, and I was desperate to succeed. I could not let myself down - I could not let Hidan down. And yet...

"He's dead," Hidan repeated.

"Yes," the police officer confirmed once again. "As I said, he hung himself. The guard found him only today, it was too late to do anything. Sorry," he added.

"I can't believe he did that. Coward," Hidan snapped and shook his head with disapproval. "Does... Does anyone else know already?"

"We informed his family in the first place. They are devastated, obviously. We thought you would like to know about it, too."

"Thank you," I crackled. "Anything else?"

"No, you're free to go," the policeman replied. "Excuse me, I have to go back to work," he explained and turned back, leaving me and Hidan in the sullen corridor.

For some reason, I could not say a word. I felt tears in my eyes. I sank on one of the chairs standing by the wall and hid my face in my hands.

"Hey, hey, what's going on?" Hidan asked, clearly disorientated. "What's happening?" He sat down next to me and put his hand around my waist.

"I don't know." I shook my head. "He wasn't... He's never felt the way I did. Never. And now he's gone and I..."

"And you have to stop thinking about him," the albino whispered.

"People at school won't. Now, I am guilty, again."

"Stop thinking about it. You can change school, you can even change the city. Some people stay. Some people go. Some people _die_. That's what people do. Now, focus on yourself and make sure you are here, you are not going anywhere. That's what matters," he said. "That's what matters to me."

 _I close my eyes again._


	21. Goal

Brandon's suicide was a breaking point in my life. After the accident, I was afraid to go back to school. I feared being blamed for his death as much as I feared coming across his parents or other family members. A part of me was also afraid that Kyle, Fabian and Casey probably felt abandoned by their best friend and felt hopeless facing the consequences of their previous actions. However, at the same time, I was glad – I was so glad Brandon was gone. The truth was, I knew I would never feel safe if he was still alive, and no one would be able to help it. I would always expect him to show up at my doorstep and destroy everything I believed in once again. Besides, to me, he did deserve to die. I would not even try to ask myself how many times I wanted to die myself – I should rather ask how many times did I actually want to stay alive? Brandon made suicide my dream – I'd only wished it was easier to do – every time I seemed determined to end my life, I would think of the situation I was in; somehow, I could not make myself go away knowing that I have never experienced anything better than that. Dying without knowing what happiness means is much worse than passing away with a history of beautifully unique situations tied to your heart. And so, as much as it could sound horrible, I was grateful for his death. Some people say the victim might be able to heal, forget or maybe even forgive the offender - I knew I would not. Even if he was in jail, I would still fear he would somehow escape and find me, I would feel his breath on my neck every night and I would look around every time I would go outside the house. In the world without him, I was finally able to breathe.

Nonetheless, in the end, I had to go back to school. Changing the school was not an option – I could not imagine being separated from Hidan. As much as other people's opinion on me was making me feel uneasy, Hidan's support could always make me feel better and his warring attitude could scare people off. At a different school, I would not have it. Besides, A-levels were coming up; maybe Hidan was not too focused on classes but yet he always managed to get a decent grade. His help would surely increase my chances for passing and… and what, exactly? That was the point. It has been ages since our conversation on after-school plans and I still had no idea what I wanted to achieve, where I wanted to go. Of course, I wanted to continue to live with Hidan but I knew I would have to become more independent; to me, it was already indecent not to pay Hidan for living at his place. I knew it needed to change even though the albino never seemed to mind it.

* * *

Shortly before the school bell for the first class, everyone slowly filled in te classroom. Brandon's seat was empty, so were Kyle, Fabian and Casey's seats. The remaining trio got convicted and had a suspended sentence imposed on them. The judge decided they were manipulated by Brandon; that was why they avoided the jail. Instead, they ended up with a record that would surely make them unable to find a job in many professions. They had to change the school, too, and got a restraining order against them to stay 100 yards from me.

As we were waiting for the first class, I was wondering whether the teacher would want to arrange a minute of silence for Brandon. I hoped she would not; he obviously did not deserve it but I could never know what other people thought.

"So..." Maria said loudly. "Do you think we will get some new people joining our class? We now have four free places left in this elite lot," she laughed. She changed her hair colour; from pink, she went to dark purple. She was wearing a black jumper, a pair of purple trousers and platform creepers which were probably making her almost as tall as me. She did not have much makeup on, though, thus looking a bit tired.

"Elite group? More like a pathological family with murderous outspring," Jack retorted. He was one of the few people me and Hidan used to go out with a few times. Hidan was always saying he was a decent guy, and they were going go to some local metal concerts together at the time when I was refusing to go anywhere.

"Do you think they will give us, like, a psychologist or something? You know, to deal with the huge trauma of losing a..."

"...dickhead?" Rose, Maria's friend, finished.

"No fucking way, I am not seeing a fucking shrink because of that," one guy protested. "I don't care, he got wat he wanted, I have nothing to do with that," he added defensively, as if seeing a psychologist was one of the worst things that one could experience.

"Calm down, Rory," Maria rolled her eyes. "Does it really matter, anyway? I don't care if they give us someone or not. We don't have rapists in our class anymore and that's what is important to me."

"Can you just please stop?" I mumbled, not sure what to think. "I know Brandon is gone and I know he would have probably been still alive if I hadn't told the police."

"Easy, no one is telling you are responsible for this, okay?" Maria responded promptly, crossing her arms. "He had it coming. Besides, he killed himself, right? I can't see how you're responsible for his death. I'm glad he's gone, after all the things he's done," she stated.

"Why are you telling me this now?" I asked.

"Because she wants to make herself feel better," Sebastian added. The tall blonde who was hanging out with the school football team always seemed to be interested in arguing with other people. "We all do, anyway, right? It sucks to be a part of something like that and be able to say only that you were that person on the side who didn't do shit."

"You don't have to tell me this, ok?" Maria retorted. "I know it myself. I didn't do shit, neither did you. Maybe if we did, nearly 3 years ago, it wouldn't end up like this."

"Maybe it wouldn't," Rose sighed. "But it's all lost now, anyway. We are where we are." The black haired thin girl looked at me with some sort of sadness in her green eyes, "I'm sorry, Deidara."

It turned out there was no minute of silence for Brandon, and I spent the day feeling strangely detached from the reality. The world of all the 'maybe' was not an escape but an abyss.

* * *

One week later, I managed to speak to my father. He seemed particularly pleased with the outcome of the trial as the media could not reveal my name. It all seemed done and dusted and my father's reputation did not seem to suffer. He still had his job and, as far as I was concerned, none of his colleagues knew about what happened to his son. I also knew that, deep down, my father was relieved that I did not decide to testify against him. The long history of physical and mental abuse could bring him down and destroy everything he was proud to have… and, still, I did not decide to go on a war against him. I could only hope he felt grateful for it, just a little bit.

On one occasion, after the trial, I decided to confront him on my own. Well, to be specific, Hidan went there with me but agreed to wait outside. I knew that was something I had to do on my own. I had to ask my father questions he could only answer while alone with me; or so I hoped. I went to my house around 5 as I knew that would be when my father would be back from work but he would not be drunk just yet – that was the best time to confront him.

"So, that's it," I started, peering at him with doubt. "The trial has ended. Now there are three more people who are awaiting the penalty but I am not going to attend their trials," I added.

"Good," my father talked down to me. "Are you coming back to live here?"

I shrugged my arms. "I don't know. Can I?"

"Well, you already made up your mind, didn't you? You went to live with that albino boy," he noticed.

"Yeah, I know…" I did not really know what to say or what I even wanted. I needed answers but asking questions seemed more one could take.

"In theory, you are allowed to live here till the age of 18," my father remarked. "Then, I don't care. You can do whatever, it's not my problem, as long as you don't go in my way."

"I… Can I ask you something?" I risked.

My father glanced at me but did not say anything.

"Do you really hate me that much because I could not defend myself?"

"Listen, boy. Everyone has their dreams or ambitions. I wanted a son who would be tough, who wouldn't let anyone fuck around with him. I wanted a son who would have a decent job, find a wife and give me a grandson. I didn't sign up for a faggot who can't do anything properly and goes to court because he couldn't even stop some kids from screwing him. I wanted to teach you how to defend yourself. I thought you would take it, man up and do what men do: suck it up and punch back. You've never learned anything. Your mother would be disappointed if she was here, too," he said coldly.

"I… I see," I rasped after a while. "I am sorry. That's who I am."

"That's why you can't expect anything from me. Feel sorry for you? You had you goddamn chance to man up. Missed it? That's not my fucking problem. I'm only glad that stupid trial did not jeopardise my job."

"You know I could have reported child's abuse so they would build a case against you," I said before I had a chance to bite my tongue.

"You wouldn't dare," my father implied. "You would lose everything you ever had."

"All I ever had was my mother, myself, my art and Hidan. None of those things is related to you," I hissed.

"You are related to me. Everything in your life was, is and will always be related to me, thanks to me. I fed you and gave you home when your mother died. I could have easily let you just die," my father growled.

"Maybe at least then I wouldn't spend all those years _wishing_ to die," I mumbled, looking away.

"That's not my problem," he retorted. "Anything else you want to say?"

I hesitated and shook my head. "No, I'm good."

"Good, I'm busy."

I knew the only plans he had was to watch telly and drink but I did not say a word; just like I did not say anything over the last years.

"Bye, dad. Merry Christmas," I said and left the house without waiting for his response. I saw Hidan waiting for me with his phone in his hand. He looked up and asked,

"Is everything fine?"

"Yeah," I answered. "I'm sorry you had to wait."

"That's fine. Did he say anything?"

"No," I shook my head. "Nothing I wouldn't have expected." I hugged Hidan and kissed him on the cheek.

"We should go somewhere else," Hidan suggested.

"Home? Please," I asked. "It's cold."

* * *

That year, I got to spend Christmas with Hidan. Although he did not celebrate Christmas, he did not say no to taking the opportunity to get drunk. We did not have a Christmas tree or anything that would remind of celebrating that Christian holiday. We stayed in his flat, not keen on going anywhere or speaking to anyone else as if we were trying to hide from the world. The Christmas Day was still extraordinarily close to what happened in court, and afterwards, and it was difficult for me to detach my thoughts from the events of the last weeks and months. I somehow accepted it would probably never become unimportant and vague – things do not disappear and even though people do, the trauma can stay forever. I was only hoping to learn to live with that, and I knew I was not alone.

My previous Christmas Day, and the one before that, and any other Christmas at all, they all were more awkward and painful, though. My father never wanted to spend the day with me, thank God; I supposed even he would not manage to put up with the tension between us. Being separated on that day helped; I would usually just paint or draw in my room, take a sleeping pill earlier than usual and just go through the rest of the day while sleeping.

On the Christmas Day, when we exchanged gifts, I was a bit nervous. I bought Hidan a book which consisted of interviews with the most notorious serial killers in the history – that was motivated mostly because of his interest in criminology, particularly in murder cases. I also got him a bottle of absinth which he was always saying he loved and which I always avoided. Hidan, on the other hand, gave me a thin and light package which I thought was a book or a small canvas. When I opened the package, though, I saw a graphic tablet. I looked at him questioningly and mumbled, "thank you so much."

"I know you said you've never used this sort of stuff as you always preferred real canvas, paints and all of that stuff… But I think you could like it, you know. I remember you said you weren't sure if you wanted to go to uni or not, and you said you didn't have any idea for the future. I thought that maybe, if you like it, you could be a graphic designer or something like that? You are amazing and I bet many people would be fucking delighted to get logos and other stuff designed by you. You wouldn't even have to worry about A-levels that much," he added, smiling.

I opened my mouth to say something but then I closed them again. I twisted and snuggled into his chest, embracing him tightly.

"Hey, don't tell me you hate it so much you're crying," the albino joked.

I lifted my head and stated firmly, "I am not crying." Hidan grinned and kissed me slowly. I returned the kiss and added, "you didn't have to."

"Well, I kind of did have to," he replied, smirking. "I could see it was really bothering you, I mean, that I said I was moving away. I even remember when you mentioned you were sorry you couldn't contribute to the rent or anything like that because your father would give you next to nothing. And yes, as I said, I would be moving to London once we're done with our exams but I have no intention to leave you here. You going with me, no matter what."

He held my hands and kissed me on the cheek. I nodded, smiling. Maybe he was right – that could work. I was ready to try something new, and if that could help me to find my own way and would become something that would bring me money to stay where I wanted to stay, I was ready to try.

"I love you," I said.

"I love you, too," he replied, looking both pleased and confident.

Someone once said, "there's a big difference between wanting to die and not wanting to live. When you want to die, you at least have a goal. When you don't want to live, you're really just empty."* Somehow, I understood that sentence as a beginning of my life. Before I met Hidan, when I knew nothing but violence and my own desperate will to disappear, I had wished to die - I only did not have the courage to kill myself. I would _close my eyes_ , blend into darkness and hide from everything and everyone. Once he appeared in my life, I understood I did not want to die anymore - and yet, scared and bruised, I still did not want to live. But then, after all of this, for the first time, I started to value my scarred life not because Hidan was simply in present in my life - of all things, he became a part of my life, the life I was ready to love, the life I wanted to protect.

* * *

*quote by Brian Warner

Here we are. The last chapter of this story. I would like to thank all of you who have been following this story. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Thank you.


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